Midnight Sunshine
by redchocopanda
Summary: A cliche typical college 'popular pretty sweet redhead meets a snarky aloof cold-hearted brunette' that starts with a simple crush, little meaningful looks here & there and with a little twist of things eventually they fall deep in love but things, or basically the universe, tries to get in the way of that, however, love always wins, the end... is not what this story is about.
1. I Know Your Eyes

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Victor Barden University.

Standing proudly for centuries at the small, lush green town of Bartholomew Cross. It's a five hour road trip up north from Louisiana by car but the long travel is all worth it once one reaches the wrought iron gates of the prestigious university. Inside, people have never failed to gape at the vastness of the campus, acres and acres of land filled with huge, tall trees all over the place as it is right in the middle of Winter forest. They line the whole pathway until one reaches the administration building, the heart of the university. It's also best to take note of the distance from the gate to the building and thus, refrain from getting down the car to go by foot unless one is a health buff and is planning a non-stop twenty minute run.

Built almost a thousand years, making it one of the oldest in the world, the university's structure, at a glance, looks like it has seen everything, every memorable occasion, every generation's fashion, and a millennium's worth of secrets ranging from all forms associated with love and rivalry—rivalry which is usually due to love of course. But despite the student's jest about the university looking like an old cathedral instead of a school, make no mistake about the structure's sturdiness for its stone walls have withstood a millennium of natural calamities, calamities made by humans against other humans and a thousand years' worth of cursing from students every exam week.

Today, Victor Barden University may seem like any typical university with the same courses, same boring classes, at least two boring professors, same special festivities every year, same sororities and fraternities, well, maybe the food and facilities are more high class than the rest of universities in the country, given that it's a university of the wealthy, however, one would find it highly peculiar to find that the university is divided into two, the East and the West Wing.

Doesn't sound so peculiar?

It doesn't until one realizes that the students of the East Wing had never once seen the people from the West Wing and vice versa. Complicated it may sound but see, the thing is, the East Wing begins classes in the morning until six in the evening followed by the West Wing from seven in the evening to six in the morning. It's been a strict rule ever since the university has been born that no student assigned in a specific wing, either the East or the West, should be in campus after the bell rings to signify the end of their time. Campus security would religiously ensure that the every nook and cranny of the buildings of each wing is empty and all students are in their manors, the dorms of the students. With cameras installed in every corner of the campus, no one has ever successfully broken the rule. At least, no one in this century. No one would dare, to be honest. Rule breakers are always caught without fail, no matter how good you are in infiltration and espionage. The idiots who do try are faced with immediate expulsion, effective immediately. Mommy and daddy could be the richest in the world but unfortunately, no amount of bribing and threats cannot save your dumb ass. It's part of the contract that every student and their parents sign before enrolling in Victor Barden University.

The East manor, like the West manor but on the opposite side, is located a bit far from the class buildings. Golf carts on stand-by all day are the main source of transportation. Entering both the East and West manors is also tricky. It's like living in a highly secured posh neighbourhood. Security check-points are found in every entrance and of course cameras watching in every corner of the East and West wall—yes, there is a wall. Every student is given an ID to be scanned at every check-point. Lost ID? Not to worry, there is facial recognition and thumbprint scanners for that while your ID is being set for replacement. Admittedly, this is one of the reasons why a lot of parents would push their children to enrol in Victor Barden. The security of their children isn't going to be a problem. Taking all these into consideration, it's a fact that even until graduating, students from both wings have never once caught a glimpse of the opposite sides of their territories.

The division of the university seems so complicated that one would think of about a dozen of issues regarding this strange compromise. One of them is the library. Everyone who has been to college knows that every student at this point of their life would be spending late nights in the library cramming for exams and would be buried in piles and piles of paperwork needed to be submitted on their respective deadlines. At Victor Barden, the East and West have their own libraries, both massive, located near the manors for easier access. And before one would go on to ask, yes, they also have separate cafeterias, cafés, restaurants, bars and shops. Basically, it's like a small town in each dorm area. Being far from the city, students won't have to worry about internet, cable and good food. Victor Barden University will take care of you like no other, going even beyond to give the best for their students and therefore, every individual studying at Victor Barden is ensured a comfortable campus life.

So, how does one get assigned to which wing? Or does one have a choice as to which wing they would like to be in? Well, not everybody could be assigned in the West Wing. Now, this is where it gets interesting. There is so much mystery surrounding the infamous West Wing. If taking classes from seven in the evening until six in the morning isn't already very strange, there are more questions to be questioned about the West. Basically, the people of the West Wing live at night, the total opposite of the norm. Which isn't really practical because if they do graduate and join the work force, they would basically have to turn their worlds upside down, experience jet lag symptoms and see the sun for the first time in a long time—depending on the course of choice. To even choose that kind of life is very strange indeed. Which is why the people of the East Wing have made numerous speculations and various rumours regarding the West.

Now, it is believed that the students of the West Wing were from the wealthiest of the wealthy and have an IQ that beats Einstein's. And although some people from the East Wing are offended by this, as they believe to be qualified enough to be placed in the West Wing based on the first fact alone, many could not help but speculate so. It is noticeable how people of the West Wing come and go in heavily tinted limousines and limited edition imported cars. Rumour is, that students from the West Wing are highly gorgeous, tall, blue-eyed ethereal beings with glossy hair and perfect pearly white teeth. This lead the West Wing to be fondly coined as the Dark Hollywood of Victor Barden due to its exclusivity and god-like features of said students. But then if you do take into account the real facts, the rumour may have been born because most of the students from the West Wing aren't only composed of students from this country, most of them actually come from different parts of the globe. This would then answer some of the questions as to why their lives revolve around the night time. Being from different countries and time zones with a majority of them coming from Europe and Russia could be the reason why so. Even the West Wing faculty is a combination of nationalities. And yes, again, the West Wing has its own mysterious faculty members and its own set of deans that all only work at night.

One must also take note that all of the mentioned above are the more popular rumours and facts going around about the mysterious West Wing. The rest are the more exaggerated and absurd rumours made probably as a joke like the students of the West Wing being vampires who can't walk in the sun for too long, drink human blood with their fangs, have pale skin, red eyes and are gifted with abilities in speed, fast healing, super strength, heightened sense of smell, hearing and visibility and live up to two hundred years.

It's funny really how far-fetched that particular rumour has gotten through the years. What's even funnier is when one _does_ enter the west wing one shall realize that it's actually not a rumour.

It's the truth.

* * *

Emilia Mitchell-Stein or Emily as she is fondly called is a freshman at Victor Barden and will soon be residing at the West wing manors. Specifically, her family manor which she will be sharing with her relatives currently enrolled this year, the Mitchells, the Conrads and the Swansons, all of which belong under the Du Pont family bloodline, one of the five elite bloodlines. Having graduated from Constantine Albert High School, another prestigious institution, just like her relatives, Emily will now begin her university life in Victor Barden.

Like every freshman, Emily has high hopes and expectations in regards to the prospect of trying things for the first time on her own, although, not entirely since she's still living in the presence of family who can still rat you out to the elders if ever you make the mistake of annoying them. But then again, there are lots of secrets made between siblings and cousins that never reach the parents, especially since loyalty is very prominent between her _kind_. Right her _kind,_ a secret from the rest of the world, hidden in the shadows of the night, embraced by the moon and an enemy to the sun.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" her mother, Katherine asks, placing a comforting hand on her arm, making Emily tear her gaze from the greenery outside and into her mother's concerned eyes. They were dark blue, a contrast to her light brown orbs which she got from her father.

"Excited and a little nervous at the same time," she admits and this earns a squeeze on her arm.

"A little is fine. It's normal. I remember my first day at Victor Barden," her mother recounts with a smile. "I met your father here," she smiles widely and it's infectious enough as Emily's own lips break into one.

"I knew he was _the one_ after our first meeting," her mother gushes.

"How did you know he was?" Emily asks curiously.

Her mother then places a hand towards the center of her chest, right at her heart. "This will tell you," she says. "Your heart will choose whom it would want to bond with for the rest of your life. Trust it, Em,"

At this time, their limousine stops right at the reception building of the West Wing manors before naturally being opened by Edgar, the family butler who has worked for them for more than a hundred years. He was like family to Emily as she considers him as an uncle.

"Have a fantastic school year, pup," Edgar says, looking at her proudly before offering his fist for a fist bump, something Emily had taught him recently. She smiles before bumping his fist with hers. But then a sinking feeling swells in her chest and the realization that she'd be away from home for so long.

"I'll miss you, Ed," she sadly says as she embraces him.

"I'll miss you more, pup," he tells her before they break apart and he quickly wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. Emily knows that if she doesn't cut the goodbyes short she'd end up crying like a baby any time soon and that's not cool.

So, with the promise of seeing each other at the end of the year for winter break, Emily then turns to her equally teary-eyed mother—and this isn't going to be as easy as she initially thought no matter how excited she was.

"You're father and I are very proud of you," she says in a shaky voice and soon Emily is engulfed in another hug. "If only your father hadn't had to take care of a business emergency, you know he'd be here,"

"So both of you can weep on the cobblestones of VBU because your only daughter is leaving the nest?" Emily groans yet her smile breaks the sarcastic façade. There's just nothing like family. So, she hugs her mother tighter than ever. It would have been perfect if her mother wouldn't have to go break down a series of reminders and precautions about the consequences of irresponsibility and such—mothers, of course. Just then three similar limousines bearing the Du Pont bloodline's red insignia, pull over one by one behind them.

The first one carried the Swanson brothers, sons of Cole and Jessica Swanson. Stepping out first are the inseparable identical twins, Nickolas and Nathaniel, incoming seniors in Victor Barden followed by Jesse, the youngest and incoming sophomore. The boys immediately greet Katherine with a hug and unfortunately for Emily some hair ruffling, much to her irritation. But what else is new? Being one of the babies of the family it is inevitable. It's another story though when someone messes with her because then they'd have to suffer unmeasurable pain from the brothers. Beware, they can make anything look like an accident.

Take Bobby Atkinson from high school for example who made the mistake of putting his foot out in front of her to make her trip. Today, Bobby might never be able to use his right foot ever again. Might. But then that was high school and high school is far from college. This is where teenagers like Emily slowly start to transition to adulthood.

The next limousine carries Stella, the youngest Conrad and also an incoming freshman like Emily. With her, are her parents, Stephen and Louisa Conrad who are both present to send her off. They all exchange hugs and as usual talk about family matters.

Stella immediately links arms with Emily as they interchange excited looks, quickly planning on how they'd finalize the interior of their room. They've already decided to share one since their last year in high school and had eventually sent someone a month ago to style the room to their taste. It now only lacks a few personalized touches.

Finally, the third limousine drops off the final members of the Du Pont bloodline, Stacie Conrad, Stella's older sister and Beca Mitchell. Both girls are incoming sophomores just like Jesse which is why those three quickly group together to share distaste about everything and anything they find, well, distasteful.

Eventually, the cousins join Emily and Stella to fill them all about what to expect. After a series of important pointers like what menu to avoid in the cafeteria and professors or subjects that make you want to kill yourself from boredom, the discussion finally moves to the other elite families. Even Nick and Nate, as they are fondly called, break away from scoping out some eye candy to join the short lesson on Family Bloodlines 101 for Beginners.

"The Ortega bloodline, one of the five elites," Nick says with a smirk as Emily's attention directs over to the loud group, laughing and howling at each other.

"The Hispanics," Nate comments with the similar smirk. "They throw the wildest parties," he nods appreciatively.

"And have really hot bodies," Stacie adds playfully and the sly knowing look she throws Beca doesn't escape Emily. Those two really get along with those kinds of things. But then again it's also no secret how much the Du Ponts love to party and mingle intimately. Being in a relationship with a Du Pont promises a wild kind of ride from start to finish.

"Okay, moving on!" Nick cuts in, tearing his eyes off the Latinas and towards the next elite group.

"The Mori bloodline," he introduces, a brow rising up amusedly at the females whose skirts rival Stacie's when it comes to decency.

"The Asians, highly talented and most probably coming second to us in terms of being the coolest creatures of the West," Nate again adds in, licking his lips as his eyes immediately travel towards the same direction as Nick's.

As always, as if they are in tune by telepathy, the twins turn their head towards their baby brother with amused faces.

"But then Jesse knows more about them than we do," Nate teases in a slow tone, giving emphasis to each word.

"He knows them rather intimately," Nick pushes, copying his twin brother's tone.

The youngest Swanson, who seems to have already sensed that he was going to be the center of the joke ever since they started talking about the Moris, throws his head back and puffs out air in frustration. Emily has been fully aware that he has indeed dated a Mika Takagawa, thus the teasing.

"Fuck off!" Jesse mouths towards his sniggering brothers since their uncle and aunts are standing behind them and even though are all currently in deep conversation amongst each other, every Du Pont child knows that no matter how much you whisper you must never test the hearing abilities of their elders. After all, the more a vampire ages, the more powerful and sensitive they become.

"Stop it guys, let's all not hurt Jesse's feelings," Stacie warns as she wraps her arms around the brooding Swanson and smoothens the back of his hair gently like a mother to her three year old son. The sentiment and gesture may be sweet but anyone could hear the sarcasm in it. And sarcasm after all is such a prominent and infamous Du Pont trait. Which also means that one must never partake in a word battle with their bloodline. Nobody has ever been known to survive the sting of insecurities and has left hearts crying in pain.

On the other hand, Jesse, who tries to move his head away from Stacie's touch can only exhale in frustration as he cannot escape the tall female's long arms. Besides, there's just no point avoiding it since Beca joins in on the fun and reaches to pat him lovingly on the head. Emily could already tell the mocking look Beca is sporting behind those dark sunglasses accompanied by the trademark Du Pont smirk.

"Wait, which one is she?" Stella suddenly asks out loud and much to Jessie's horror, all four of the older cousins point shamelessly towards a petite Japanese short-haired girl with a single streak of pink highlighting a small portion her black locks.

Fortunately, before Mika, who is talking happily with her group, could even notice the special Du Pont attention being thrown her way Jesse frantically lowers their arms like his life depended on it. Well, it probably does and at this point, Emily feels lucky to have only received hair ruffling from her teasing older cousins. Their family has, unfortunately, also has a reputation for savagery. Be it medieval or the 21st century emotional style savagery.

"I thought she was my _match_ but it didn't really work out, okay?" he says in a tone in between whining and pleading. "Now can we please move on?" he sighs, hoping to end the discussion.

The whole group goes silent, Stacie raising her hands as a sign of peace but her arm remains draped around Jesse's while the others look away, finally dropping the topic to continue on with Bloodlines 101.

"Next up, the Niculae bloodline!" Nick gestures grandly over to the left as they all turn towards the direction of most probably the tallest group in the West Wing.

"Composed of families scattered all over Europe, mainly originating from Romania, well, most of us have originated from Romania including our beautiful bloodline," he adds in a matter of fact tone.

"Direct descendants of the famous Count Dracula," Nate comments in the infamous Dracula accent.

The twins break into a series of chuckles as the rest of them shake their heads and sigh. If there was one thing that every vampire agrees on, it's the over-exaggerated view of the world has of them because of that damn novel.

"Good old great great grand uncle Vlad, bless his soul," Nate dramatically says with a hand on his chest.

Based on the old books and the history of their origin, there really was a Vlad Dracula who later became the popular Count Dracula. Despite the famous belief, Vlad wasn't a vampire. At least, he wasn't born one. He was just some sadistic ruler who had an addiction to blood. Apparently, he loved the taste of it and drank it along with his wine. He even made all of his new-born children drink it. The horrid act had then caused "defects" among his next of kin. They shied away from the sun as it hurts their eyes and weakens their body. However, they also found out that drinking blood of the purest beings like virgins, children and young animals had increased their senses and gave them youthful appearances despite old age. As horrible as it sounds, Vlad's descendants have kept the gruesome tradition until they became the vampires whose bloodlines have been passed into present generations—and that last fact is what the world doesn't know about.

Fortunately, at this time and age the blood of the innocent and pure are no longer needed to create vampires. The change had been permanent after two generations have passed from Vlad's family. And unlike what Bram Stroker had written, it is possible for vampires to have children and live as normally as anyone else—take that, Bram! You know nothing.

"They bring in the best liquors and anything that screams illegal," Nate eagerly continues about the Niculae's, rubbing his hands together and looking like some opportunistic hyena waiting to pounce on its prey. Emily is already guessing that the Niculae manor is where her twin cousins would be hanging out often for the rest of the year. Besides, among all the bloodlines, the Niculaes are the strongest ally and closest friends to the Du Ponts for centuries. Intermarriages between the two bloodlines have been common ever since. Although, at this time, a—hot-blooded—Du Pont, with the exception of the head of the bloodline, would be open to marrying any of the bloodlines, elite or not, literally, everyone.

Or… maybe not quite everyone.

Another set of limousines with the stylized cursive gold letter 'V' on the front and a gold insignia embossed at the side of the vehicles. The sight instantly wipes off the smirk from the Du Ponts faces. Even the mischievous twins fall silent, faces changing into that of a sinister glare. The cars line up to park a couple of meters in front of the Du Ponts own limousines, assistants rushing out to open the car doors all at once. Stepping out with an air of arrogance and class, prominent shades of bright golden blonde and light auburn tresses and waves greets its way towards the Du Ponts' line of vision.

This time, Emily and Stella need no further introduction to this particular bloodline. As a matter of fact, by the time a Du Pont child learns how to talk and walk, they've been made to immediately acquaint themselves of this particular bloodline, that and the bad blood between the families. This is to practically avoid any sort of relations, especially, intimate relationships with that specific bloodline in the future.

"The Vanderbilts," Emily breathes out softly as she eyes the ever formally dressed elite bloodline across from them.

It doesn't take long until the Vanderbilts fix their gaze towards them. Even the parents from each family eye each other warily despite the cordial greeting, heads dipping down lightly towards each other in respect. The tension is strong and thick that every vampire in the area pauses, hushing down into silence as they watch the two bloodlines with interest.

"They are allies but they are no friends of ours either," Nick says through gritted teeth, breathing heavily as his gaze zoom towards the tallest Vanderbilt. Thomas Vanderbilt or Tom as he is popularly known. Nick's greatest rival when it comes to swordsmanship.

Tom doesn't wither or flinch at the look and clenches his jaw as he glares back, standing tall and proud like he was opening a challenge towards the older Du Pont. Nick motions to take a step forward but doesn't continue due to a hand on the back of his lower arm. It was Beca's. And although she doesn't look at him, her eyes behind those sunglasses never breaking contact towards the Vanderbilts, her grip on his arm tightens, giving him a warning squeeze and Nick reluctantly simmers down a bit.

A couple of months ago, Emily recalls finding out from her parents about the duel between the two men. It almost got bloody at one point when they took the sport out of the arena and into real life. No protective gears on and real sharp blades unsheathed in their hands as they attack at each other. The story was, Nick cried foul play on Tom's part inside the ring and things escalated quickly when Tom is proclaimed winner by only one point. Strong words have been exchanged and soon both men are out at the empty lot behind the Ortega manor fighting for real.

Thankfully, both bloodlines were quick to stop them before they could cause serious injuries on each other and grave consequences from the school's board members. It literally took Nate, Jesse, Stacie and finally Beca to hold Nick down from jumping at an equally furious Tom. All Du Ponts wrestling arms and limbs down the ground. The commotion only cooled down for a bit when security came in. However, when the graduating Vanderbilts and Du Ponts returned from their graduation practices, another fight almost ensues which has the younger Du Ponts and Vanderbilts wrestling relatives down the ground for the second time. It was only when deans threatened to expel graduating members from both bloodlines does the fight come to an end.

The famous confrontation has instantly made its way down the history books of the Du Pont-Vanderbilt feud as it had been exactly ten years since the two bloodlines went physical against each other. Which is why there's a running joke that the next feud will definitely happen in another ten years. This year, as the two rivals have one more year at Victor Barden, no one can blame the whole West Wing for expecting another season of undoubtedly the best reality show in the vampire world.

Anyways, Tom isn't the only one the Du Ponts need to watch out for this year. Next to him stood Claire Vanderbilt, the self-proclaimed Ice Queen of the West Wing. Unlike her brother, the incoming sophomore had light auburn hair but was born with the same icy blue orbs as her brother. Those very icy blue orbs that are now eyeing the youngest Du Ponts. The gesture is truly intimidating but Emily hopes it doesn't show on her face. She could tell that Stella was doing the same. They are Du Ponts, an elite family and cowering down the enemy is something they were taught not to do.

But then again, if there was one thing the Vanderbilts were taught since birth, it would be perfecting intimidating stares. It's a must have for every Vanderbilt as is smirking devilishly for every Du Pont. And if intimidating is what we are talking about, Claire isn't the only one who has perfected the trait. Next to her is Aubrey Posen, one of the proud over-achievers of the family. An incoming junior, leader of the Barden Bellas sorority and top, straight A student which is why it's not surprising that the emerald eyed blonde female is already taking advance subjects and is already a strong candidate for Valedictorian. Behind her, her brother Arthur Posen who inherited the same golden blonde hair and emerald green eyes is no stranger in the dean's list either. The incoming sophomore is obviously following his older sister's footsteps with his achievements in the debate society. He also bears the same arrogance as Tom and holds the belief that they are better than any bloodline as he eyes them with disgust. Emily's blood boils at this and she wishes that he choke on his own spit while debating on stage.

Once her eyes land on the next blonde Vanderbilt member, instead of feeling the pile of hatred grow, Emily finds shy ocean green eyes that quickly avoid hers. Scott Vanderbilt-Collins, an incoming freshman and to Emily, the only Vanderbilt that doesn't look at her the way they generally do. She remembers him being the first one to silently pick up her things when that idiot Bobby Atkinson made her trip—yeah that idiot Bobby from high school. Despite the history between their families, Scott had looked at Bobby with eyes that could burn someone alive as he stood in front of Emily, shielding her from the obnoxious bully. Before even thinking, she grabs on to his sleeve to stop him from getting into a fight. She later realizes that, that would be the first time she made physical contact with a Vanderbilt.

The moment breaks however, when her cousins arrive at the scene as soon as they heard the small commotion. When she looks back, Scott has quietly disappeared without even a word or a chance for Emily to thank him. But then when she picks up her bag, she finds a piece of candy placed on top of her now properly organized stuff, the same candy the young Vanderbilt is always seen eating.

If Emily were to be truly honest, she secretly wishes that the feud between bloodlines finally disappears because she believes that whatever the old Du Ponts and Vanderbilts were fighting about centuries ago is extremely unfair to the younger generation who are being pitted against each other because of it, whatever it is.

But then again, as Emily notices Beca finally taking off her sunglasses, those piercing deep blue orbs connecting with striking bright blue irises and soft beach waves with the same auburn hair colour as Claire's, all hope for peace and friendship between bloodlines instantly crumbles down the ground, pathetically.

It's no secret that Nick and Tom aren't the only rivals between both families. In fact there's one more and this one has been silently brewing for years now, its impending explosion is due any moment now and Emily is worried that this year could be the moment it does.

A smirk finally finds its way into Beca's face before her lips part for the first time that night.

"Chloe Beale,"

Her words even though done subtly doesn't come unheard and the response doesn't take long. And even though it is done just as subtly, the spiteful tone cannot be mistaken.

"Beca Mitchell,"

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hello loves, I did a thing again. And fuck I might have dug a really deep hole for myself in this one.**

 **Quick survey:**

 **Should I continue?**

 **Type in 'YES Baby Bear YES' to agree or 'Bitch NO' to disagree at the comments section below.**


	2. In The Morning Sun

**Chapter 2**

Peace.

That's all incoming freshman, Scott Vanderbilt-Collins, hopes for as he steps out of the vehicle to be welcomed by the sight of Victor Barden. The young Vanderbilt had always been one to avoid confrontation as much as possible and had constantly sought solace in places where he could be alone to his thoughts. He'd actually been able to get through Constantine Albert without any problems, well, except that one time where he almost made the biggest mistake he could ever make. Almost. But then, the peace he painstakingly built shatters even before his feet had been fully planted down the ground and that's when he realizes that unfortunately, his campus life in Victor Barden won't be any different from Constantine Albert. Especially if your family has a bloody history with the Du Ponts. The Du Pont bloodline, a bloodline to which the Vanderbilts had been cursed to painfully live alongside with.

Truthfully, Scott doesn't even care about the Du Ponts. It's already too exhausting having to keep up with all the drama between families. He believes that it's completely useless because what's the point? Sure, there's tons of history behind the ongoing rivalry but Scott couldn't figure out why they had to drag it on for so long. It's been years, centuries actually.

Isn't it time to let it die?

But he knew the answer, it won't and it might never will.

Not when his cousin Tom is looking murderously at Nickolas Swanson who in turn is looking like he'd be puffing smoke out of his from his nostrils any moment now. His twin brother standing next to him, Nathaniel Swanson, is probably plotting scenarios on how to plan out their revenge against them.

Other than a knack for trouble, the infamous Du Pont twins have also been known as the dangerous Casanovas of Victor Barden's West Wing. Despite that kind of reputation, people still continue to line-up in front of their doorsteps. As a matter of fact, the men of the Du Pont bloodline have generally been known to frolic around campus, partying and getting laid as much as they want, anytime they want.

But if you think that the Du Pont women are any different then you thought wrong. Especially if Stacie Conrad is part of the family. The leggy brunette probably holds the title for the most seductive Du Pont in this century. If the twins have people lining up in front of their door, Stacie has almost everyone fighting for even just a spot in her radar. Apparently, it's already in the Conrad DNA to score high in the sexual charisma department so it's no surprise that Stacie's younger sister, Stella, is following in her footsteps.

Like her sister, Stella Conrad has always been first in when it comes to everything that required beauty and appeal. She'd been so popular in Constantine Albert that the school had given her a second locker every time special occasions happen like her birthday, Valentine's Day and Christmas season since the gifts she receives from friends and suitors would eventually spill along the hallway.

However, if one would think that the Conrads are all beauty and no brains, the sisters would quickly prove you wrong. Scott was fully aware that the older Conrad was smart enough to make his cousin, Aubrey, feel threatened, which rarely happens by the way. Aubrey's top spot had almost been in danger of being snatched away by none other than Stacie Conrad. But that didn't happen and Stacie couldn't really care less, something which infuriated Aubrey even more since the incoming sophomore would rather be dancing in a club late at night than study for the final exams yet, still managing to garner the third highest exam score. Aubrey says that it's clearly cheating. But when a person is constantly placing top, cheating is out of the question. On this note, Stella doesn't come short in terms of class standing either. The younger Conrad was class salutatorian in Constantine Albert which only proves that their family has no reason to cheat.

Being already on the subject of introducing the Du Ponts, let's move on. Scott's eyes land to the next Du Pont standing in between the Conrad sisters, a spot everyone is extremely jealous of. Jesse Swanson, the youngest of the Swanson brothers. If the twins are the Casanovas of Victor Barden, Jesse is the notorious heartbreaker of Victor Barden. With that sweet guy-next-door look, those soft and gentle eyes, a contrast to his brothers' chiselled and sharp features, people are easily drawn to the younger Swanson whose words and gestures are enough to make even the manliest men swoon. And that's exactly the problem. If anyone analyses it closely, Jesse is actually worse than his brothers. At least with Nick and Nate everyone already knew what to expect which is, short-lived hook-ups filled with extreme fun and pleasure. But with Jesse? Expect serious heartbreak and life shattering pain. Thus, the infamous title.

But what's funny is, this title comes with its setbacks.

There was a time, 2 years ago to be exact, when one of his former relationships, a girl named Danielle Johnson, heiress of a huge conglomerate company had caused a scene on top of the Du Pont hotel in Paris as she attempts to kill herself with a dagger aimed to her chest. The cause of this extreme desire to end her life? Jesse breaking up with her, of course.

Scott even remembers the exact time that it had happened. Even though they were at Maryland the news had travelled as fast as a click on social media since any news about the five elite bloodlines are sure to travel like the speed of light within the community.

Fortunately, Danielle didn't end up killing herself. With Jesse's gentle words and hypnotizing persuasion the commotion had come to a positive end. They remained good friends until today but almost everyone can tell that the poor girl is sadly still in love with him. Jesse, on the other hand, has seemed to have long moved on. Rumours of him breaking another heart, one belonging to Mika Takagawa from the Mori bloodline have spread during the school break. What has been circulating around hushed tones is that Mika had been spotted every night at various clubs in the Roppongi district in Tokyo, dancing and drinking the pain away. Nevertheless, Jesse Swanson always finds a way to befriend his exes and in the end everyone lives in harmony.

Now harmony isn't exactly the word to describe the next Du Pont.

And this one deserves a longer introduction because it's none other than the heir to the Du Pont high seat.

Rebecca Olivia Du Pont or as she prefers to be addressed, Beca Mitchell. Now, the reason behind why the daughter of the current head of the Du Pont bloodline and chairperson of the blood council declines to use her father's surname, opting instead to take her mother's maiden name, is because it's been rumoured that father and daughter don't get along well. Beca is in fact, the one true heir to her father's seat as head of the bloodline. It's her birthright. But then the rebellious sophomore has been said to slam down the claim and refused to be swayed otherwise, infuriating her father even more.

Scott is aware of how heavy the position of being a bloodline's leader is. Tom himself is next in line to the Vanderbilt seat and is being rigorously trained in all important matters regarding politics and issues within the community especially if you are expected to represent the family in the blood council. Being the leader meant that not only does he have to be wise, strong and responsible with all his decisions as he will be the one that every member in the bloodline would look up to, he is also the protector of the bloodline, having to be able to be the best in physically protecting and ensuring that the family is kept safe at all costs. Thus, ruthless combat training is included in preparation for his ascent to the high seat. With such a sacred position, even his future is being greatly secured. Meaning, he'd have to carefully choose the perfect partner. Something which is most definitely asked of Beca as well. Her husband or wife must be worthy enough to share the burden of being the bloodline's head, worthy enough to carry half of the crown's weight. They eventually have to share the same principles of the bloodline and therefore, if Beca does choose her lifetime partner, her _match_ , from any bloodline, must eventually, without a doubt, become a Du Pont, leaving his or her own bloodline and swearing loyalty forever to the Du Ponts. This itself, isn't really an issue unless Beca chooses someone from among the five elite families. That would require a very long process between the two prominent families with regards to setting up terms before the official union of two elites.

To be honest, anyone would be honoured to sit beside a leader of the first five bloodlines.

The Vanderbilts take these matters really seriously, even more than any of the other elites. Known for strictly keeping the bloodline pure, they've had the most marriages within the family. Unlike the world outside of theirs, this fact isn't really surprising or taboo. Every elite bloodline has been known to practice such traditions, only that nowadays it isn't as strict or forced upon, unless you are of course, a leader of any of the five elite families. Generally, it happens between cousins like Tom for example.

In the Vanderbilt family his role as the future heir of bloodline's high seat means that he is most definitely expected to marry a Vanderbilt or at least one of the four elites, _three_ for a Vanderbilt considering the fact that a Du Pont is just out of the question. But then as of last summer, Tom wouldn't be having any problems regarding that issue. Everybody knows that Tom is in a relationship with the university's sweetheart, Chloe Beale and as you've all guessed correctly, Chloe is a Vanderbilt.

Now, the perfect way to describe Chloe Beale would be comparing her to the Du Pont's famous heartbreaker Jesse Swanson in terms of charm. The gorgeous redhead is sweet, in gesture and in words, bubbly with that unwavering bright energy, easy to get along with, irresistible with the brightest bluest puppy eyes that would make anyone give in to her easily, smart, kind-hearted with her numerous charity projects for underprivileged children and abandoned animals, highly talented, being part of the university's theatre troupe and all—basically, Chloe Beale is a hundred and one percent wife material and everyone envies Tom ever since their relationship became known. They are, as a couple of months ago, now the _golden_ couple of Victor Barden.

But then that's not really the hottest issue about Chloe Beale.

Beca and Chloe.

Okay, now that's one searing topic nobody wants to get caught in between of. Scott doesn't exactly know when it started but what he did know was when the bomb started ticking.

It started at Constantine Albert. Both girls were at their third year and somehow ended up being a part of the annual grand race relay during the school's anniversary. With the sole intention of fun and camaraderie, emphasizing the importance of teamwork and unity despite differences. Ironically, the event, despite the initial and much more positive objective, eventually sparked what is now described as intense rivalry, _blood wars_.

The whole course of the race spreads across the open field of Constantine Albert and all the way into the Blackwood forest. There are a lot of obstacles, physical and mental, for the teams as they run on damp soil, crawl in enclosed spaces, climb a couple of elevated trails or trees until they circle back to the open field where a messy wresting battle ensues at the cargo net. The cheers go loud when the players reach the final obstacle, the climax of the whole race. In the center, surrounded by a muddy water filled trench, a sturdy and smooth platform had been built. On said platform, right smack in the middle is a small circular table where the lonely trophy, a gleaming, golden image of a woman wearing a crown upon her head, looking upwards and holding a sword pointing downwards in her middle, is found. First player to grab the trophy wins for their team.

And so, it just so happens that out of the three teams with ten players each, it has gone down to two individuals and much to the crowd's delight those said individuals turn out to be a Du Pont and a Vanderbilt. Popular high school princess Chloe Beale of the obviously strongest team, team Snowe climbs up the platform breathing heavily only to face team Candrick's secret weapon and wild card, Beca Mitchell, who has gotten past team Snowe and team Harper's taller and bigger players. It would probably surprise people more if they found out that the tiny brunette had been the leader and brains of their team's brilliant strategy. Rather than just going ahead using strength and blindly running around like the rest, Beca opts for smarts over speed, leading her team into the final obstacle like a true _queen_ by suddenly blindsiding the enemy after coming quietly from behind and wasting no time attacking with her loyal _army_ behind her. And only after her team mates sacrificed themselves into the mud pit, barricading around her like a shield and pushing her into safety despite her protests, does Beca make up her mind and climb up the opposite end of the platform.

There was a visible three second pause between the two females. Chloe visibly pales and Beca's usual emotionless look slips into that of uncertainty for a tiny second but it was gone as quick as it came. A switch has then been turned back on with the sight of the trophy right in between them, snapping both girls to life. They move in a flash at the same time and it seemed as if Chloe would get to it first only to be caught in surprise as the table gets knocked down, the trophy along with it, just before the tips of the redhead's fingers reach it. Chloe's face goes from disbelief to anger in seconds as she glares at the smirking Du Pont who had wittily slid down instead, swiping her foot across the base of the table to bring it down knowing that if she didn't, Chloe would have won then and there.

Beca quickly leaps towards the direction where the trophy rolled off to but grunts at the sudden impact of a body tackling her from the side, her reach going far from her prize. In seconds two bodies hit the surface of the platform unglamorously, the structure shaking at the impact. The crowd reacts in shock at the scene as they anxiously look on with baited breaths. The two prominent families rising up from their seats in concern.

Scott even remembers catching it all on video as he films the whole thing from the front area of the audience seats. He remembers glancing over at the other end where the Du Ponts are all on their feet filled with excitement and nervous anticipation except for one. Darius Corbin Du Pont, Beca's father. Strangely, the head of the Du Pont bloodline and chairman of the blood council, whose presence in public, especially when it comes to school affairs such as this had been rare until now, sat calmly, legs crossed, face emotionless as he watches his daughter scrambling up and wrestling with Chloe in order to get the trophy. Every time Beca falls to the ground, Darius merely taps a finger against the top of his cane, the ring representing their bloodline bumping against the metal handle of the stick. Back on to the platform, both girls start rolling on top of each other, fighting for the upper hand. Obviously, despite having a 'no intentional aggressive attack' rule, this competition is about to get really physical if nobody is going to stop it and Scott is expecting blood to spill any time soon. School security must all be nervously watching by now.

Only, blood doesn't spill and Scott's brows furrow as he studies how careful Beca's movements were. He's had his own martial arts trainings, much less rigorous than Tom's, of course, but still he could tell, the brunette was holding back. It's already clear that Beca was winning with how quickly she pins Chloe down on her back in just a few smooth moves. However, his cousin isn't one to back down easily and is putting a really good fight, moving her body into an angle that could help her pin Beca back, almost trapping the Du Pont in a choke hold for a dangerous moment there. Chloe has always been active in outdoor sports. Tennis, volleyball, swimming and even rock climbing are actually only a few of her hobbies. Her amazing discipline and fondness for learning has made her a good athlete.

But then Beca isn't labelled the wild card for nothing. Whatever sport Chloe has a background of isn't enough to topple down the Du Pont. Scott could see how Beca manoeuvres her body in a calculated and precise manner, every move geared towards her advantage. It's as if she's been doing this her whole life. And if punching, kicking and violently hurting the opponent were allowed, Chloe probably wouldn't have stood a chance from the position she was currently in.

With the Vanderbilt's wrists restrained in Beca's hands, body down on the ground as the brunette sits on her stomach, no matter how Chloe tries to wriggle her way out, remains useless. Without even going in on the offense, Beca would always have a counter defense. Always. Clearly, she's simply draining all that's left of Chloe's energy. It won't be far from now, given the way that Chloe's chest heaves up and down. All that's left is the Du Pont's triumphant win as she slowly drags Chloe to the edge of the platform inch by inch where, Scott guesses she is about to push Chloe off to. The trophy now only a few steps away from them.

Or maybe, it was just too soon to tell.

It all happened so fast. One moment there it seems as if Chloe's struggling arms go limp in defeat and it really does only take a second before the Vanderbilt releases one last full burst of energy. But instead of aiming for a counter attack, she aims for the fabric of Beca's mud stained 'Team Candrick' black shirt, right at the neckline. Chloe's fingers grasp the fabric, pulling it down along with Beca's upper body with it.

It seemed like another attempt for a choke hold, which Scott would predict Beca could eventually get out of, but that doesn't happen as Chloe lifts up her head upwards, meeting Beca halfway, lips crashing against another. Strawberry connects against, surprisingly, sweet mint. Amongst the crowd, jaws slacken, eyebrows rise up in amusement and wolf whistling takes place.

Everything just stops.

The surprise becomes evident in Beca's wide eyes after only a couple of seconds when she finally realizes what is currently happening because the probability of Chloe Beale kissing her is as real as a marriage between Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster. The Du Pont is quickly stunned at the unexpected move that before she could regain her bearings, Chloe takes the opportunity to use whatever strength she had left to push Beca off the edge of the platform. Beca gasps at the attack, body seemingly still frozen up from the kiss as she falls off but doesn't hit the muddy waters. She looks up to see Chloe gripping on to her wrist to keep her from falling. The redhead lifts her up a bit for her to be able to hold on to the platform's edges. Only when Beca has a good grip on the platform does Chloe release her hold with a sly smile that says _'gotcha!'_ before dashing towards the trophy, the golden statue being proudly held up in the air in seconds.

Chloe's team goes wild from below, the Vanderbilts cheer with pride and out of the corner of Scott's eye Darius Du Pont gets up silently with a monotonous expression on his face as he adjusts his tie and straightens his dark suit, his jaw clenching as he turns around to leave with his subjects quickly following him into the dead of the night. When Scott glances at Beca still hanging by the edge, he catches her looking at her father's back before quickly averting her eyes elsewhere. The change came quick, her expression goes cold, detached, and unreadable.

He watches as she slowly relaxes her fingers, choosing to fall down the muddy waters instead. He continues to follow her path to descent before she climbs out of the trench, body and face stained with dirt yet she walks with her head held high towards her team mates who look at her with a great amount of respect despite their loss.

Something deep inside him feels that same sense of respect for the Du Pont whom everyone seems to think of as uncaring and rude as she scans the area to help team mates up from the ground and even slinging one team mate's arm over her shoulder to help them walk, possibly a sprained ankle injury. And sadly, as it always is, nobody notices all of that as everyone's focus is towards the winning team. Nobody but him and a pair of baby blue eyes watching from the top of the platform.

And thus, the bomb began ticking, counting down towards the unavoidable end. Its explosion looming dangerously closer every second as this school year starts.

Scott knows there's more to that rivalry before that story happened but whatever reason that started it all has been left on hold, growing every year, worsening by the day, and piling up every moment it is left untreated. It doesn't even help that ever since then Beca has made it her hobby to retaliate and piss the redhead off, making Chloe's almost perfect life in high school hell. Scott has actually had the misfortune of hearing Chloe's complaints, Beca Mitchell's name in her lips followed by every negative adjective known in the book. Unfortunately for his cousin, it seems she's going to have to deal more on the smirking Du Pont. The one Du Pont everyone should know never to cross, ever.

That, Chloe knows now.

On that note, it's time to continue that long introduction.

There are actually a lot more things one should know about the future heir of the Du Pont high seat, whether Beca likes it or not. One might mistake her for being weak and frail. Being short of height, standing almost two inches shorter than Chloe, a petite feminine body that seemed too soft with all the right curves in all the right places. One might even call her delicate but then life's a bore without a little twist, at least that's what the Du Ponts believe in. There's a reason why the rebellious Du Pont is being called unpredictable, the wild card. The brunette might not want the claim her father shall pass unto her but as it seems, there are qualities in the young Du Pont that could possibly make a good bloodline leader, maybe even the head of the blood council as well. Even Scott agrees to this. They maybe subtle and sometimes they go unnoticed if you don't stop to observe carefully. Beca herself may not even realize it yet but it shows even amongst the older Du Ponts. She has this ability to hold everyone's attention easily, commanding deep respect and unconsciously leading in times when a leader is needed.

It was Beca after all who snapped Nick from his clouded anger months ago, a hand tightening around her cousin's throat as she looks him straight in the eye to tell him that it's not worth killing Tom, not until they both graduate and make it look like an accident.

And yes, it's probably the most unconventional method and a very disturbing choice of words, if you think about it, but still it's a smart move as it does the trick, calming Nick down by giving him something to think about until they graduate college. It is also noticeable that whenever the Du Pont children are together planning something crazy the final decision would always be up to Beca, Beca whose words are rarely heard as she literally sleeps around, lazily looking at anything and coldly turning away disinterestedly to everything that she deems a bore. Everything except for one.

Chloe Beale.

Beca's pretty little toy, Chloe, and she takes delight in well, _playing around_ with her. Considering that Beca's _fun_ includes, partying all night, illegal racing and bringing home random bodies to warm her bed, the redheaded Vanderbilt being added to that list can't be good at all. At least, not when bullying and harassment is attached to it. Beca would probably even admit enjoying the thought of making Chloe suffer without any hesitation. It's nothing physical though and that's probably not any better at all because mental mind games and negative emotional turmoil is actually worse.

A good example of which is, the great class debate back on their last year in Constantine Albert. With the class being divided into two and the topic revolving in sex education. And if Chloe were to count the worst or most humiliating moment of her life, it'd be when Beca, who suddenly takes interest in actually participating in class, brutally takes a jab on her lack of experience on the topic before proceeding to take advantage of the flustered look on her face and easily dragging her arguments down without any remorse.

Chloe went home crying that day.

But Beca should know by now that Chloe isn't one to be shoved and pushed around. The proud daughter of Markus and Alessandra Beale bounces back up all the time, much stronger than ever before. The Vanderbilt certainly has fire inside of her that blazes harder when people try to put it out.

One could say that Chloe Beale is the sweetest and kindest soul to have walked this earth. The redhead has spearheaded charity events and projects for a good cause, always willing to extend a helping hand and brighten anyone's day with those disarming smiles. But one must also know that it's the nice girls that you should look out for because once you push a good girl over the edge and to her limits you'll be wishing you were never born instead. Besides, there's always two sides to a person and Chloe is not an exemption. If Beca continues to push further she just might get acquainted to that side of Chloe that nobody wants to be acquainted with.

However, as pointed out, Beca is smart, the kind of smart that knows when to push and pull. Making Chloe's blood simmer but stopping it in time before it reaches boiling point.

Just like this exact moment of seething silent exchanges between the two elites as they stand across each other in front of the West Wing's student hall. Scott notices Beca take off her sunglasses, a devious glint in her eye as her focus zooms in on the obviously irritated redhead. The smirk on Beca's lips grows as she formally acknowledges Chloe by her name, whilst the Vanderbilt does the same.

"Let's go," Aubrey commands sharply and places a warning hand on Chloe's arm with all intention of pulling her away.

"Chloe, leave it," Aubrey hisses again, finally cutting the intense stare between the two women.

Chloe reluctantly relents but pauses mid-turn when she sees Beca mockingly sending her a flying kiss and an annoyingly graceful light motion of her fingers resembling a cocky wave that has even Aubrey glaring at her with vexation and disgust. Tom would have joined in on the glare fest against Beca if he hadn't be so pre-occupied with his own personal war with Nick to notice the special attention Beca is showering towards his girl.

Finally, after a few more tense seconds, the heir to the Vanderbilt high seat decides that starting a fight on their first day at Victor Barden is just highly impractical and would get them in trouble which isn't a legacy he doesn't want to leave in Victor Barden and everybody knows, legacy and reputation is exactly what Tom Vanderbilt considers important. The guy basically lives off of his laurels and accolades.

The rest of the Vanderbilts start to then move in the opposite direction. Chloe naturally finds Tom's hand as they start to make their way towards the waiting golf carts that will take them to their manor. The Du Ponts do the same, turning to walk towards their ride as the two manors between families are strategically placed at the farthest opposite ends of the West Wing dormitories. Believe it or not, it is a good thing. Whatever the reason, it's definitely placed that way to avoid having the two families bumping into each other and start practicing genocide, or something like that.

Scott was just about to follow suit but unconsciously feels a strong pull towards the other end, unintentionally making his eyes meet hazel coloured orbs to one of the younger Du Ponts, Emily Mitchell-Junk. By instinct, he immediately averts his eyes, awkwardly shifting his weight before feeling a heavy hand coming up to his shoulder. It's Arthur, Aubrey's brother and Scott finally turns to join them all the while trying to stop his thoughts from being consumed by chocolate coloured locks and curious innocent gazes.

A Vanderbilt and a Du Pont must _never_ mingle with each other and won't ever do so for most likely the next hundred million centuries or never.

It's an unspoken rule.

It's forbidden.

It's _bullshit_.

* * *

 **A/N:  
**

 **Oh. Wow. Wasn't expecting this enthusiastic response from you guys.**

 **So, clearly it deserves an update!**

 **So we have a little 'meet the Du Ponts' from Scott's point of view this time. About Scott, uhm, I thought of Benjie Applebaum first but I just couldn't see adorkable Benjie as a vampire. Which is why, I created Scott. What does he look like? Well, a younger, blonde Sebastian Stan (go to google images and type young, blonde Sebastian Stan for photos), you're welcome.**

 **As for the Beca-Chloe rivalry, well, yep some history they have there and they even shared a kiss back then too! My fingers are itching to press the detonate button for them both.**

 **By the way, thanks for participating in the red panda poll (I really just want to see a lot of people typing in yes baby bear yes 'cause it's fun! I mean look at the beautiful comments section! Cute, right? okay now type in, 'I love baby bear hugs' in the comments section for virtual hugs! ...or not)**


	3. I Feel You

**Chapter 3**

Du Pont manor.

The two-story Versailles inspired French manor stands proudly at the very end of the West wing property grounds. It is a little further away from the rest of the manors, cornered and hidden with oak trees.

The manors of the West wing are naturally larger than that of the East wing and if people of the East find out that some manors, the bigger ones, of the West are literally owned by elite families, protest and jealousy are surely bound to erupt along with their disbelief that instead of a single dorm room which they have to share with a roommate—which they then have to deal with for the rest of the school year—the occupants of the West have one whole estate all to themselves.

For Beca Mitchell, despite the general dislike for school and such, she'd easily choose Victor Barden rather than her family's very own French château. Honestly, anywhere her father isn't in is better and much more preferable, no matter how annoying her cousins could get. Taking her gaze out of the stained glass styled windows, she averts her eyes back to where the others are currently chatting, the topic still being, the Vanderbilts of course.

"It's 'cause they think they are so high and noble than any of us but guess what, they bleed like everybody else!" Nate exclaims, holding his wine glass up in the air as he points outside.

"And they play even dirtier. Royal and noble, my ass!" Nick's voice booms next to Nate's, taking the bottle of blood from Stacie's grasp and drinking straight from it.

Beca silently agrees with a slight tilt of her head to the right, getting a taste of it first-hand years ago herself. The _dark_ memory making her empty her own glass. She raises it towards Nick who pours her more of their favourite drink for her.

This time it's Jesse who raises his hands up for attention as he stands from his seat and dramatically clears his throat. "Alright, alright, attention here. It's already been established since the very beginning of time that those Vanderbilts are low class pretending to be high class, stuck-up, cheating assholes. Now, I don't know about you guys but I certainly am not going to let them bring down the mood," he says with a hand on his chest, the other holding a similar glass as the rest.

"C'mon, it's our first night back at VA!" he points out, looking at his brothers who shrug at his line of thought and motions for him to continue with wherever he is going because from the looks of it, it's about to be get interesting.

"So, the big question is, _when_ are we going to hold this year's first Du Pont party?" he finally asks with a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

Stacie's face lights up at the word 'party', biting her bottom lip to suppress the excited grin while Emily and Stella quickly look at each other, the thrill of having their first college party experience getting them all bouncy and giggly.

Jesse then looks over at his twin brothers who still wore contemplative looks on their faces so the youngest Swanson resorts to releasing, if not the most, his bestselling tactic.

"There are freshmen waiting to be guided to the right kind of _fun_ ," he sing songs before being rewarded by twins glancing at each other, smirks slowly forming in the corner of their lips.

Nick nods at the idea. From his comfortable looking sitting position in the sofa, he proceeds to move his upper body forward to rest his elbows on his knees like a coach seriously talking about their next game strategy, a mischievous twinkle in his dark brown orbs.

"Alright," he starts. "Shall we then start our 2017 Du Pont Welcome Back to School party?" he asks and although he doesn't say a name, his gaze lands to the tiny female resting at the end of the living room, back leaning against one of the single sofa's arms with both legs draped over the other, elbow propped up on top of the arm rest supporting her back.

At the question, Beca finally pauses the music playing inside her head and brings her full attention to the center of their circle as she begins to lazily swirl the dark red liquid in her glass. Every Du Pont watching and expectantly waiting for her answer.

Finally, she swings her legs down so that her black high-cut sneakers hit the floor with grace. She then stands up, eyeing each one of her cousins before opening her lips to speak.

"A noble bloodline never declines a noble invitation," she begins in a tone between sarcasm and deviousness. "It is a courtesy that every elite is taught since they were born. So, we the Du Ponts, an elite bloodline, cordially invites _every_ other elite bloodline, along with the rest of the community. _No_ exceptions," Beca declares as her lips curve to the side as she emphasizes every word.

She raises her glass as the rest glance at each other with meaningful looks and uncontrollable grins, one big plot already brewing in their minds. In seconds, every drink is up in the air, squeals, shouts and excited giggles erupting inside the Du Pont manor.

* * *

Vanderbilt manor.

"This is preposterous!" Aubrey Posen erupts as the Vanderbilts lounge in the solarium of their classic Italian manor earning a sigh from Scott whose eyes are fixed on his laptop. Being a computer major, he had been given or rather, forced to do the task of trying to scoop out information from the enemy and try to figure out their motives.

Usually, it's quiet inside the Vanderbilt walls. There would be light chatting and laughter at times especially during dinner or in any social occasion being held at the grand hall or the Rose garden. The Vanderbilts pride themselves with the peaceful and tranquil atmosphere of their home.

That is until an invitation encased in a black envelope with the red letter's D and P cursively written in elegant handwriting.

The thing is, what could be considered as a simple letter would actually turn a house upside down, specifically the Vanderbilt household.

It has actually been two days since the silent confrontation between the Vanderbilts and their long standing rivals, the Du Ponts. Now, for some reason unknown to mankind and all living mystical creatures, these said rivals are inviting them or better yet, _formally_ inviting them to a _'social function to commemorate the start of the school year'_ in order to, _'rebuild and strengthen bloodlines'._

The whole thing sounds so sincere and innocent but the Vanderbilts knew the Du Ponts well enough to know that this isn't so. As a matter of fact, it's a challenge. The Du Ponts have claim that they have nothing to hide and now have drawn out their first card, waiting for the Vanderbilts to make their move. Which is either, 'back out like the little cowards that you are' or come here and experience a _magical_ evening with us'. Ultimately, this means, they don't have a choice. Every formal invitation among elites isn't to be considered lightly. Giving out one is actually rare and important. Thus, it should be given the number one priority with regards to bloodline relations, an equivalent to the human term, international relations.

This is now the dilemma of the Vanderbilts.

It's clearly a trap," Claire utters out, looking very displeased at the black invitation laying open on their table at the center of the room. She crosses her legs, her short skirt hiking up even further, and gently plays with the strands of her soft auburn hair.

"The Du Ponts and their noisy animal parties. It's going to be one giant headache," she continues in disgust, rolling her eyes at the thought of being in a party with the Du Ponts while Aubrey paces around behind her, a mix of anxiety and frustration clearly written all over her face.

"Exactly my point! Those impertinent, boil-brained, common-kissing, earth vexing, low lifes are trying to drag us down with them!" she continues angrily, breathing out before closing her eyes to try and calm herself down. Chloe glances worriedly at her. Aubrey has anxiety and panic attacks, a secret only they keep within themselves.

"Easy there. Even Shakespeare is terribly offended by your use of his insults on such species," Arthur points out, lifting a caviar tartlet from the table to munch on, his eyes looking amusedly at his sister.

"We have to be there," Tom suddenly cuts in rather dejectedly as everyone whips their head at him in surprise. Even Scott's loud typing goes quiet, Tom's words ultimately putting a stop on operation 'figure out the enemy's play'.

On the other corner, Aubrey opens her mouth but decides against it after a second and swallows back her protests instead. Every Vanderbilt has to get used to the power Tom has over them as he will be sitting in the Vanderbilt high seat soon, replacing his father.

Beside Tom, Chloe frowns at the idea, unable to hide the detest she feels at the thought of stepping inside Du Pont territory. It's comparable to crossing enemy borders without a weapon or a plan of attack. They could be stabbed at the back the moment the tip of their toes cross the Du Pont threshold and Chloe hates it.

This school year was supposed to be her fresh start. Meaning, finally being able to have unlimited time at Victor Barden with her boyfriend who had been so busy with the family business and other bloodline politics during the whole summer. Its Tom's final year at Victor Barden and this is the only time they have to be like any normal couple before he officially takes over the high seat and joins the blood council. This fresh start also included avoiding anything about the Du Ponts at all cost. She even made sure that all of her classes were Du Pont free.

This party the Du Ponts are suspiciously inviting them to for the first time is going to ruin all of those plans.

"We have to at least show up for half an hour," Tom says in a tired tone. He clearly hates the idea as much as they do but his duties and responsibilities outweigh his personal interest, a fact that he has to live with ever since he was a child.

His tone of finality leaves Chloe without a choice but to resign to the horrible idea that tomorrow night she'd be dining at the other side of their fence, _the bad side of the fence_. The thought already makes her want to drive a car straight to the edge of the cliff.

"If we are going to garbage land then we better be bloody fabulous enough that even the stench would be afraid to touch us," Claire breathes out.

"And if they bite we bite back, harder," Aubrey adds through gritted teeth, fangs almost baring out in anger.

At this, Tom finally stands up, holding up his glass of blood. "We are Vanderbilts," he says proudly. "We are pure bloods, an elite bloodline and we will not let anyone disrespect our name or step on us," he declares, earning nods from everyone except Scott who looks out of the glass walls into the red roses all around the garden silently but nobody notices as they all wait for Tom to raise his glass in the air to say, "So, shall we party?" as glasses raise up in the air in silent agreement.

* * *

It's a quiet Sunday night in the West Wing manors. An unusual occurrence as every Sunday night is considered a time where people walk around the West Wing public area to chat, dine and hang out with friends under the glory of the moonlight. Unlike the East Wing occupants who consider three in the morning as a dead hour where everyone is deep in sleep on the comfort of their beds, the West Wing's three in the morning is a busy, lively hour. But no, tonight was as quiet as a church. The restaurants and cafés are almost empty and the path walks are void of the usual night strollers and evening joggers.

Why so?

The answer is, maybe you're not just at the right place.

The right place happens to be at one of the biggest manors of the West Wing where most of the occupants of the West are currently at.

The Du Pont manor is going all out on impressing everyone tonight, styled and polished to awe people as they enter, making sure that one would bear in mind that a Du Pont party is a party like no other. Guests are in for a glamorous night as diamond and jade crystal chandeliers hung above the high ceiling, red velvet carpets laid out on the hallway leading to the foyer up until the function room overlooking the gorgeous and tempting pool area where some of the guests are now lounging in.

Back inside the function room, high tables are scattered around as guests enjoyed cocktail appetizers and overflowing delicious champagne.

Chloe must admit that the classic and formal atmosphere was something she didn't expect. Funky, laid back, feel good music plays around the house unlike the usual techno and club like party beats the Du Ponts would always blast in their infamous parties. For some reason, tonight was certainly different and somehow worrying, worrying in a sense that this is so unlike the Du Ponts.

Holding Tom's hand, Chloe and the rest of her family finally enter, albeit rather cautiously, the Du Pont manor. This is Chloe's first time inside the place or at least, this specific Du Pont property. In fact, despite the tension between families, Chloe has been to almost all of the Du Pont estates, especially the one here in America, to celebrate occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, wakes, and even when there are council meetings between bloodlines years ago.

Surprisingly to many, the Du Pont property Chloe has been to the most actually happens to be the Mitchell-Du Pont family vacation house. Given that the Beale estate is in the same neighbourhood as the house of the Du Pont's head, it only makes sense that she would be familiar with the place more than any of her cousins. She even knows every nook and cranny of the massive mansion that when shit happens, she'd know every escape passage or panic room to run to. Which also means that if one were to rob the place, they'd probably hire her as their guide inside.

Which she _totes_ wouldn't do because stealing is bad.

However, unlike tonight, being in the Du Pont mansion was never really a problem since every time Chloe finds herself inside said property, she fortunately doesn't come across that particular person she fervently hopes not to bump into tonight, along with that annoying smirk.

For some reason, Beca Mitchell isn't always at home which probably only adds truth to the fact that the young Du Pont does have issues with her father, enough for her not to come home all day just to avoid him. Chloe would know, those celebrations or occasions would last for hours and not even a strand of Beca's hair is to be seen.

Not that she's complaining.

It's a really good thing and she wishes it would be the same tonight.

But of course, Chloe knew that seeing the brunette tonight was inevitable. They were inside Du Pont territory and with her father, Darius' presence non-existent in this party, Beca is surely going to be in attendance. It won't be long until Chloe would again face her greatest enemy and after a minute, surely, Chloe finally comes into contact with a Du Pont.

It isn't Beca though.

Nickolas and Nathaniel or Nick and Nate Swanson, stood up front in a small platform looking sleek and sophisticated in their dark suits and perfectly styled hair, smirks on display as they each held microphones.

"Welcome to the annual Du Pont fête," Nick starts, his voice echoing across the whole place.

"As you've observed, we're starting classy and slow, a far cry from our previous years," Nate continues. "Although, that doesn't mean we are going to end it just as we had started,"

"For our final year here at Victor Barden, we promise to fulfil your partying fix to the fullest," Nick says as he walks a bit, making eye contact with people in the room to emphasize every word.

Whoops and positive screams of excitement fill the room except for the corner where Chloe and the rest of the Vanderbilts stood. She could even almost hear Aubrey roll her eyes in irritation.

"But before anything else, we're going to take a trip down memory lane, just a little moment to celebrate our glory years here in Victor Barden," Nate says in what sounds like the most sincere tone Chloe's ever heard him say, a hand placed on top of his own chest for a full sombre effect.

"Our grandest, craziest and wildest achievements, memories and greatest times," Nick adds as he motions towards the huge screen behind them, "Our _legacy_ ,"

The twins step down afterwards, standing next to the rest of the proud looking Du Ponts who supportively give smiles and pats on the back of both Nick and Nate.

It's probably instinct or some unfortunate telepathic sense that Chloe has with her archenemy but from where the Du Ponts are clustered together, her baby blues travel behind the cousins and towards the far end of the room. There stood Beca Mitchell, arms crossed in front of her chest seemingly trying to be discreet as she watches over her family like a protective alpha wolf, which is admittedly a bad description for well, _their_ _kind_. Werewolves, who are probably out there _secretly_ hanging out in the sun with the humans of the East Wing, aren't exactly enemies—as, again, depicted by those lame human novels—but their relationship with them is sometimes comparable to that of dogs and cats. Frenemies is the usual term.

 _Anyways, enough of those unruly, stinky dogs and back to the party._

The tiny brunette, surprisingly, has traded her usual jackets and jeans for an elegant, black strapless cocktail dress that hugged her figure, emphasizing her curves and boasting a good amount of skin, truly a rare sight to see. At this point, Chloe has to admit Beca is attractive with those intense dark blue eyes, that unconscious lip bite and shiny chocolate brown hair cascading on one side down her shoulder. And yes, Chloe with all her unbiased and fair perception to everything would admit that much.

It's only a shame that such beauty had to have a black, cold heart that keeps causing Chloe's warm sunny skies to fade and be replaced with snow storms and hail. But casting their rivalry aside, Beca silently looking out on all her cousins tonight makes Chloe wonder if it is something done out of forced responsibility being the _reluctant_ heir and all or an endearing act of care which, in Chloe's point of view, Beca doesn't show very often or if not at all.

At this time, as Arthur Posen yawns shamelessly, everyone else around them is giving quite a number of excited yelps and hearty laughter from the video montage of memories the infamous twins have put together but none of that catches Chloe's interest.

Instead, she observes Jesse Swanson turn around to walk over towards Beca's side to hand her a glass of what seems to be Bourbon. He then proceeds to whisper something in her ear but whatever it was, seems serious enough for Beca to shut her eyes close and exhale heavily before slowly opening them once more. She then lifts up the glass to her lips, brown amber coloured liquid flowing down between the Du Pont's lips. And Chloe isn't staring unabashedly because it looks pleasantly appealing but because she is thirsty for a hard drink as well, _yes it's totally just that._

What Chloe doesn't expect, however, is the sudden movement of those deep ocean blues as they quickly connect with her own.

 _Right, that unfortunate telepathic sense again._

Chloe almost flinches at the unexpected contact. Her first instinct was to look away but she doesn't. She couldn't. It was like some unknown force has their eyes clicked and locked in place. Besides, looking away would make her look like a cowardly low-life thief caught in the act and Chloe is definitely no thief. She wouldn't want to be thought of as one.

 _Stealing is bad._

The connection only breaks when Chloe's ears catch Claire's murderous tone when she says, "Those despicable Du Ponts," and that's when Chloe realizes that Beca's eyes aren't the only one looking at them. The majority of the room also has their eyes on the Vanderbilts along with sniggers and chuckles. That's when Chloe turns her focus towards the large screen up front. She watches in shock at the exact moment, many months ago, when Nick punches Tom on the face which then, pauses to the slightly distorted face of Tom, mid-punch. It's a hit, hilarious to everyone especially when it evolves into the famous video meme of Tom falling into space, rainbows and beyond. The video then closes to a nice shot of the twins having crazy fun in some club, probably celebrating their birthday with big smiles on their faces and their arms latched on to each other's shoulders.

The video ends with loud cheers. The twins take to stage once more to thank their family, friends and their _very good ol' mate_ , Tom for helping them reach the notorious reputation they've always dreamed to achieve. They then begin to call for 'peace', an end to their feud and Nick's promise of a good friendly fight in the arena. Which to Chloe sounded sarcastic and half-assed. It was unfair, given that they've just embarrassed Chloe's boyfriend which also happens to be the Vanderbilt heir in front of almost everyone in Victor Barden's West Wing.

Beside her, she could feel the huge amount of self-restraint and self-control burning from Tom. His knuckles visibly going white as he grips the champagne glass, a tiny crack starting to form. So, before he breaks it completely, she places a comforting hand over his arm, squeezing it gently. It stops him from breaking anything breakable and with some dignity left in him, he raises his champagne in agreement for peace.

Chloe would have done the same if she were suddenly put on the spot. Tom knew that if he let his emotions run his actions, going berserk and rejecting the proposal, it would only prove how little his level of maturity is, how unworthy of being the heir of the Vanderbilt high seat he is. And everyone in the family knows that, that's the last thing Tom wants. He had been preparing for his ascent all his life so no matter how hard it was, for the sake of his family name, for the sake of his reputation, Tom accepts it, takes it all in and it hurts Chloe to watch him suffer as he does so.

It was that moment that made her slide her hand down Tom's to squeeze it once more in silent reassurance before letting her eyes fall back to that specific corner of the room again. She sees Beca finish the entire contents of her glass in one gulp before quietly slipping away from the room as soon as the music turns up into a more upbeat club mix, Stacie already manning the DJ booth, much to every everyone's delight.

The party starts getting heated and it's making her dizzy. Chloe breathes in deep, trying hard to calm down her anger. She fails and after a minute slips out the room with the excuse to use the powder room.

Walking out, she takes a sharp turn instead and heads up the grand staircase, the scent of a specific DNA Chloe is very familiar with getting stronger with every step she takes. By the time she reaches the second floor landing, leading to the more private areas of the Du Pont manor, she is fuming with every intention of breaking down doors, if she has to, in order to reach her target.

As soon as she turns her head to scan the area she finally finds what or, better yet, who she is looking for caught in the middle of heavy lip locking with some female whom Chloe recognizes as one of the art majors, a non-elite or as Arthur calls them, the regulars.

Impatient and driven by anger, Chloe steps towards them before harshly pushing away the poor female without any remorse. Truthfully, in any ordinary day, Chloe would've been guilty and ashamed of herself but the events tonight has pushed her to her limits and she isn't in any mood to think of others.

Staggering, the pissed off art major instinctively whips her head, ready to give Chloe a piece of her mind, fangs bared and all, only to pause at the sight of a Vanderbilt. Add in Chloe's icy death stare, which nobody wants to mess with, and the female steps back a bit nervously looking at Beca uncertainly.

Well, if she was expecting any kind of concern from _this_ Du Pont, Chloe certainly pities her for thinking that she'd get it. Everybody is just a toy for Beca Mitchell.

On the other hand, Beca, doesn't seem surprised or perturbed at all. Instead, she only looks lazily at the abrupt intrusion, as if she was expecting it all night, tilting her head a bit to one side, eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and curiosity never leaving Chloe.

"I thought Vanderbilts are all about being composed and polite," the Du Pont finally speaks, making Chloe bring back her focus on her main mission. "Because that was kinda' rude, Beale. Not even a fancy greeting for such a beautiful night? Didn't know the soft and sweet campus queen had it in her, a bad bone that is," Beca continues in a tone that only makes Chloe's blood boil. The brunette leans comfortably against the wall, looking all smug and Chloe clenches her fist to keep herself from doing something she might regret.

Breathing in deeply before anything else, she finally finds her voice, "Well, I would've if you're _very courteous_ cousins didn't just release that god-forsaken video online and clearly you don't know me that well because I'm _the_ Vanderbilt who is not going to let it slide," Chloe almost growls in a low tone as she takes another step forward.

Beca slowly throws her head back in response, smiling sarcastically as she rolls her head towards the nervous looking art student, "Wait for me inside the room," she orders before pausing for a second and finally looking back at Chloe. The smirk on her lips fades and that piercing look she throws at her almost makes the redhead retreat.

"No I don't know you at all, never did," the Du Pont replies in a low voice, barely audible but before Chloe could digest the underlying meaning or whether or not there was a hint of hurt behind those eyes something snaps inside the brunette, eyes void of any emotion in seconds. "I didn't make that video nor did I put it up for everyone to see. I'll even give you an A for effort walking up the stairs and all in order to stalk me but unfortunately, you're talking to the wrong person," Beca sneers. She moves to leave but Chloe was quick to place her hand on the wall, blocking Beca's path with her arm.

"They'll listen to you. They'd do anything you say. So, go back down there and make them delete that video!" Chloe demands.

Beca simply turns her head a bit to scoff, "I'm not their mother. Why don't you go back down there and tell them that yourself? Wait, no. Go tell your _beloved_ to do that himself instead of sending his girl to do the job," she points out, an eyebrow arching up as she speaks.

The Du Pont then easily swipes Chloe's arm down like she's throwing away some disgusting litter before continuing on her way and Chloe knows that if she doesn't do anything soon then there's nothing else she could do but helplessly watch Tom try not to drown in humiliation.

"No," she mumbles repeatedly, shaking her head as she stares at Beca's retreating form, a sight all too familiar to her. "Beca," she calls out again but all to no avail.

The brunette already has a hand to the door's handle when Chloe abruptly blurts out loudly.

"Midnight!"

It wasn't intentional.

It just came out of her lips before she even realized what she said out of frustration or desperation, or both. The effect came instantly in waves and before anything else memories buried a long time ago fill up Chloe's head, making her quickly regret ever saying anything.

" _When I take my place on the high seat, I'm going to change everything. No more of that fighting. Then I'll bring you with me to France! I'll take you anywhere you want to go, do whatever you want to do and eat everything you want to eat! No more goodbyes, ever. You and me, 'till the end. I promise,"_

" _I'd love to go do all that with you!_ _I can already see it!_ _You'll be such a great, badass leader someday. The best ever! I't's sad right now... I just don't understand all of the hate between… all of them. But when you do become the awesome leader that you are, all of that is going to disappear. We can finally share a room when we grow up too! Also, you and me, lots of hugs 'till the end. I promise!"_

" _You and your hugging addictio—oh no…stop…hug…ging…me…too tight—can't breathe… Fine! I promise!"_

Chloe tries to blink back unstoppable images of chocolate chip cookies and marshmallows laid out under a starry night next to the weeping willows and overlooking the Du Ponts' secluded Lake of Tears or Lac de Larmes but fails as they continue to assault Chloe's mind. The sounds of muffled laughter and comfortable chatter under hushed tones, making her chest tighten and stunning her completely.

At least it got Beca's complete attention.

However that just not might be a good thing though.

The Du Pont stills at the word, perhaps feeling the same blow as Chloe is feeling. Her hand on the knob frozen in place before slowly releasing it and turning back towards Chloe's direction.

By now the air is thicker than ever, the tension too much, too heavy for Chloe to handle that when Beca's eyes coldly meet hers, her stance domineering that Chloe finally gulps and instinctively steps back.

"Beca, I didn't—"

"You don't get to do that," Beca spits out at her in a very low tone. "You don't get to make demands in _my_ territory, acting like _you_ own the place, acting like you _have_ power over me. You don't," Beca hisses, taking another menacing step forward while Chloe takes another one back.

"And now that I think about it, your beloved Tom is currently hanging at the edge of a cliff," she says in a dangerous tone, nodding as she does. "And the only person standing above him? The only one who can save him?" she lets out a hollow laugh before it fades, her features getting hard and unreadable.

She leans forward to whisper menacingly, "Is the one you're pissing off right now," and Chloe almost stumbles backwards, the hair at the nape of her neck standing. Thankfully, Beca straightens herself and Chloe can breathe again.

"But then, isn't life all about bargaining and survival? Nothing comes free anymore, sweetheart. You want me to save him? Tell me then, what can you possibly have to offer that could satisfy me?" Beca challenges in an angry tone and Chloe finds herself at a loss for words, making the Du Pont scoff instead.

"Exactly," she nods. "You have… nothing," Beca breathes out and moves to turn away but pauses to look back at her again as if she remembered something.

"And _don't_ you ever make the mistake of calling me that _disgusting_ word again," she warns coldly.

Chloe's chest suddenly stings at the words, not expecting that it would affect her at all, not after all these years. Beca finally walks away not sparing her even a single glance leaving Chloe frozen and at a loss. She'd just pulled a couple of old strings there and clearly an angry Beca Mitchell is the last thing she'd want to ever encounter again.

Being loved, surrounded by comforting smiles and warmth, Chloe rarely receives hate or rudeness. If anything, jealousy was the negative emotion she is familiar with as it had always been thrown at her by people who wouldn't admit that they'd all want to be in her position. And before she could make sense of it all, a tear escapes the corner of her eye. She quickly wipes it away and frowns. Everything just confuses her now.

Swivelling to the direction of the stairs, she rushes down, bumping into another shoulder. It was Emily's, one of the youngest Du Ponts. Hazel eyes look at her in surprise and something tells Chloe that she had seen and heard the confrontation earlier. Without any words, Chloe storms away instead.

Dealing with one Du Pont is enough for tonight.

Clearly, coming here was a complete mistake.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Surprisingly, I've found out via the comments/review section that an adorable reader skips the story to read what I have to say first. Aww. Throwing you virtual hugs and chocolates your way (hope you like chocolates).**

 **Also to the guest asking if I update every Saturday. I do (also be reminded that I might do it late 'cause I'm too lazy or earlier because Sendrick did a thing that makes us go boom boom pow) so you all can stop pleading for an update the very next day.**

 **Hmm so going back to the story, the plot thickens. Bechloe surely has deep history with each other. So how did it all end up like this? It'll take a few more chapters (a _lot_ of chapters actually). Also, Tom hahahahaha I wish I can show you what he looked like in that video. **

**Anyways, thanks for all the comments, reviews, follows and favorites you've given to this story. I really appreciate each and every one of it. You all deserve chocolates and kisses... Kisses chocolates, anyone?**


	4. Touch Me

**Chapter 4**

It was 'okay' for two nights.

Well, almost.

Chloe doesn't see Tom in the morning on a school day as he has to be up early for his first swordsmanship training for this semester. He'll be competing in the nationals then internationally so it's all understandable. Tom is serious when it comes to winning and Chloe is already familiar with that fiercely intense focus and his hundred and one percent dedication he gives in to it. Although, she does wish that he'd leave a note or even a simple text but she'd see him later anyway so that's okay.

For now, she heads to her first class without any hitches. That is until the events two nights ago unconsciously claim her thoughts and focusing on anything is proving to be quite hard. It doesn't even help that she hasn't even sat down with Tom to seriously talked to him about the events that had happened. The Vanderbilt heir had been so busy doing conference calls with his father's advisors and they've been coming in frequently these days for some reason he doesn't want to share. Tom had explained last time that all of it was necessary, all this training, as his ascent to the Vanderbilt high seat was getting closer.

Chloe is honestly worried for him. She worries about him now more than ever before. He has been working himself too hard and on top of all his school work and extra-curricular. Not to mention, he also happens to be a running candidate for the president of the student body. It's the good for his resume.

Reality is catching up fast and Chloe knows very well that all these are just a glimpse of what the future would be like. With Tom becoming head of the Vanderbilt high seat, it's becoming as clear as day that it's Chloe who would soon be taking the seat next to him and as early as now she could already feel half of the responsibility weighing on her own shoulders. But she loves him and despite the heavy weight she'd have to carry someday looming up ahead, she'd work hard to help him, to prove to everyone that she has what it takes to sit next to him. So, she has to be as close to perfect as she could be.

Chloe would do anything to protect him.

To protect his reputation.

The reputation he worked so hard for ever since they were young.

The reputation the Du Ponts have easily tainted in just one night.

It doesn't happen until Chloe walks out of her last class and into one of the comfort room's stall. A bunch of giggling girls enter not long after, chatting about a specific event two nights ago and the video that stars none other than her boyfriend.

"But he's running for president, isn't he?"

"Yeah, good luck with that. His ratings are surely going to take a tumble down the hill because of that fight he had with the twins and now a video on top of that? What kind of leader would that make him?"

"I don't blame the twins though. From what I see, he seems to be so full of himself just because he is a Vanderbilt,"

"Aren't they all?" laughter erupts between the girls as Chloe clenches her fist.

"But Chloe Beale doesn't seem like that. She seems nice, I mean, all those projects and all,"

"Well, you never know what's underneath all that. She could be fake like him. There's this rumour that she has unresolved issues with another Du Pont,"

"Oh _that_ Du Pont. Such a babe that one, and very, _very_ much single,"

"Shut up, I recognize _that_ look. Girl, fall in line!"

"I'd definitely pick a Du Pont over a Vanderbilt any day. Those conceited fools are too proud to hang out with non-elites, like yeah we get it, you guys aren't _that_ special!"

More laughter erupts and Chloe was just about ready to open the door with a bang and confront those babbling chickens when a voice beats her to it, slicing in their chitchat like hot knife on butter.

"At least we don't hide in bathrooms like rats, talking about things we are too scared to say it in front of our enemies," Claire Vanderbilt says in a tone that could freeze up the desserts of Africa.

"That's your cue to scamper away, little rats," Aubrey's sickeningly sweet voice follows and all Chloe hears next is some stuff falling down the ground and hurried shuffling towards the door in seconds.

Once everything quietens down, Chloe opens the door, her cousins' eyes falling on her the moment she does. She meets their gazes and sighs.

"I was about to kick them back to the tunnels where they belonged when you guys stepped in," she says tiredly. All the hate and negativity heavily bringing her mood and energy down.

"Chlo," Aubrey softens and thankfully reaches out to her. She badly needs a hug right now.

"Rumours are just that, rumours. You know very well that there's just no truth to all they said," she comforts and Chloe wants to put all that in mind but right now, it's just too hard not to feel drained by it.

"Those immature Du Ponts. It's their fault this is happening," Claire seethes and at one point, Chloe fears that her iron-grip on the edges of the sink's marble counter would either leave a dent or worse, crumble down the floor.

"They're just primitive barbarians who got nothing to do but create disasters when threatened. We aren't like them. We'll pull through," Aubrey supplies positively in front of the mirror as she straightens her blouse while Chloe starts to sink deeply in thought. Thinking of any plan to turn this around. She has to do something.

 _But what?_

Dawn starts to break when Chloe arrives home. She expects Tom to be doing his usual thing, sitting on his desk, wrapped up in all his paperwork or in the middle of a deep conversation with his father's advisors. Not _this_ kind of Tom, the one drinking alcohol straight from the bottle, sluggish and looking all worn out.

"He's been like that since he got home," Scott reports wearily at the questioning looks from his cousins. Arthur shakes his head and sighs, announcing that he'd be skipping dinner to work on a paper.

When Claire moves to enter it's Chloe who holds her back, knowing very well that whatever insults against the Du Ponts and all that berating Claire is about to rant in front of her brother are certainly not going to be of any help in this case. So, Chloe enters instead because she knows that you can't put out fire with fire.

"Hey," she starts, softly and tenderly as she takes a seat across him. She reaches out for his hand and only then does she get a reaction from him, a shake of his head and a wry smile on his lips.

"It's over," he begins to say, a slur evident on his voice. "It's over, Chlo. I stepped down as candidate for student president today," a chuckle rumbles from his chest as Chloe shakes her head in disbelief.

"You're a good leader and a good person, Tom. This, this doesn't define you. It won't bring us down. Everything's going to be okay—" she doesn't get to completely finish when another round of half-hearted chuckles ensues.

To her disappointment, he withdraws his hand away from hers as he takes another gulp of his alcohol. He tries to go for another and this time Chloe is quick to stop him but just like a few moments ago he wrenches free from her grasp to take a drink.

"Nobody understands. Nobody!" he shouts and it takes Chloe by surprise, her chest jumping at the sudden angry tone. Tom had never yelled at her before. "Do you even know how important reputation and image is to be head of a bloodline and even more so as chairperson of the blood council?" he continues, voice breaking at this point and he instantly looks away as his eyes start to water. He blinks them back, shaking his head before exhaling heavily.

Taking everything in, Chloe reminds herself to understand, to put herself in his shoes. That if it were the other way around, she'd be acting the same way. The only thing she can offer at this point is comfort, her presence.

"B-But we'll find a way to turn this around. I believe in you, Tom. I do," she says earnestly as he looks around, unable to focus on just one thing.

"Father wanted me to be the one to sit on the blood council's throne next," he says, obviously not listening to any of her words anymore. "It was his dream that finally, a Vanderbilt claiming the high throne once more. I've been preparing for this my whole life and now," he chokes back a sob.

"It's ruined, all of it," he say in a low voice, head hanging low while he runs his fingers through his hair and scrunching it up. His usual iron-pressed shirt now looking all crumpled like his resolve. It's the worst she has seen him in and it's breaking her heart.

"There's no fixing this. It's all gone. I'm just… a disappointment," he croaks as a tear falls down his cheek. "I have nothing left. Nothing," he breathes out.

Chloe gets up on her feet, reaching out to wrap him in the comfort of her embrace, desperately needing and wanting to tell him that it's not over yet, that he still has something, that he has _her_. But she doesn't get to do or tell him any of it as he stands up to avoid her touch. Swaying and staggering, he takes the bottle and lifts a hand up to signify that he needs space.

"I want to be alone," he mumbles, pushing the double door leading to the office connected to his room and slamming it back harshly, leaving Chloe to herself.

There was so many mixed emotions within her but what stood out the most was pain and frustration, frustrated at her inability to do anything. Even as a child, Chloe had always made people feel better. She'd always light up a room, that's what her mother would always say. And now being unable to lighten Tom's burden is making her feel useless and that's the feeling she hates the most.

It was overwhelming, all too much for her that she rushes out of the room amid Aubrey's worried questions. She ignores everything and runs out of the door in seconds. Her legs just kept walking without a destination in mind and when she finally comes to a stop she then only realizes where she ended up, unconsciously.

Maybe she was going mad.

But then again, maybe this madness might just be the solution to this mess. Maybe she can still save _him_. All it takes is a deep breath, a huge swallow of pride, and a knock on the door. It opens to hearty laughter, from some interesting conversation a second ago that quickly dissipates at the sight of her.

Emily, that's the name she connects with the youthful and innocent face. A freshman, one of the new occupants in the Du Pont manor. As expected, there's the sudden look of alarm in the young brunette's face but then it quickly changes to that of caution as Chloe notices the tight grip on the knob, possibly preparing to slam it on her face if ever she makes even one nasty remark. After all, a Vanderbilt standing in front of Du Pont property without a formal invitation is like seeing what the end of the world looks like.

Just one deep breath of air is all Chloe needs as she realizes something, "Great, she isn't in there," she blurts out with a sigh, more to herself than to anyone as she gets straight to the point. Introductions between their families are not needed anyway. Besides, it wasn't a question. She was sure Beca wasn't in the house.

Upon the look of confusion from the Du Pont as to how she knew of Beca's absence Chloe begins again, much more clearly this time. "I need to see Beca, do you know where she is?" she asks impatiently, looking around anxiously.

Emily seems to let all of it sink in before finally opening her lips to say something. "I—she, B-Beca is…" she stammers and before she could say anything else the door suddenly opens wider as Stacie Conrad's face comes to view.

The older Du Pont pulls Emily protectively to stand behind her as if Chloe was some serial killer trying to lure the child out of the house. Stacie's eyes then bore down hard on her and Chloe can only let out another sigh on how absurd the situation is getting. She really doesn't have time for a cat fight.

So before Stacie could say anything, Chloe beats her to it. "I'm here to see Beca. Can you maybe call her from… wherever she is right now and tell her that I'm not leaving until I talk to her," Chloe says, trying to tone down the irritation in her tone. She's not here to get into trouble after all. Which is why she adds a 'please' after a few seconds.

The air is dead for a few moments before Stacie un-crosses her arms from her chest and inhales deeply as if she is forced into giving in. She definitely is.

"She was here a while ago but she stepped out for some fresh air," she finally blurts out, cocking her head to the side before adding, "Like she always does,"

With the lost look on Chloe's face, it's as if Stacie could already tell what she is thinking. "She hangs out somewhere come the break of day, for some reason," she mumbles the last few words with a matching eye roll. The new information gets Chloe to slowly nod as she processes it.

"You can wait right here for god knows how long since she can be gone for hours doing god knows what in god knows where or look for her yourself and just—good luck with that," Stacie says in a matter-of-fact tone as she gestures everywhere.

Her silent response makes Stacie shift to the side, about to close the door but then Chloe suddenly puts a stop to it as she quickly slams her palm against the door, eyes wide and almost pleading in desperation. The tall brunette then lifts up an eyebrow quizzically before sighing and looking back at her expectantly.

"Willow!" Chloe exclaims randomly, getting a frown in return and a look that reads, _'are you high on something?'_ but in spite of that Chloe presses on, "Do you know if there's a willow tree around? Or at least, heard of one nearby?" she asks.

With the confusion etching Stacie's face she's just about to accept that today's just not the day and plan on the next course of action which is, ambushing the female in question at school—which is the worst idea because a Vanderbilt and Du Pont being seen together in public is going to start another wave of nasty rumours—when a voice comes up softly.

"There's a large weeping willow tree probably five minutes away from the time you step into the forest," Emily squeaks and Chloe almost forgets that the younger Du Pont was still standing behind Stacie, fidgeting with her fingers as she looks from a confused Stacie to her expectant look.

It's only after a minute that Chloe lets Emily's words sink in. Because if Beca is where Emily is telling her, it sounds really insane.

Everyone knows that the Winter Forest surrounding the whole of Victor Barden isn't a place one would want to _hang out_ at. Other than the fact, that the school forbids it, all the students don't really need much reminding about that rule. Winter Forest is, as one would say, mysterious. Any loud noise from the outside fades as one enters, like it was soundproof. Most students even deemed it haunted since it's always cold even on the summer peak. Adding to its mystery, it's been said that it suddenly snows deep within the forest when outside, the sun is high and bright. Thus, the name Winter Forest. Even the werewolves who were the only ones allowed to climb up the wall every full moon, don't wander far past the marked red line where the trees are thicker and the atmosphere even darker. Stories of people who do try to pass the mark were never seen again, claimed forever within the mysterious depths and that's why nobody even dares to do so.

It's just not the place to be.

At least, for people who aren't Beca _I have a death wish_ Mitchell.

When Stacie gives her cousin a questioning look, Emily quickly blurts out an answer, "Beca… mentioned it once last Christmas in France when I asked her where she would rather be. She says there's a secret door behind the vines lining up the wall, there are small pebbles leading the way to it—and now that I think about it, Beca told me to keep it a secret and I'm so screwed," she visibly panics, face going pale before Stacie pats her gently in the head. "No you aren't, you're her favourite Du Pont baby—don't tell Stella that," the taller brunette says with a cough at the end while Chloe is still reeling in shock over the fact that Beca actually has the capability of caring. Hazel coloured eyes then look back towards Chloe swiftly. "I don't really know exactly where the tree is. I've never wandered there. I don't like dark, cold places so I can't even draw you a map to the tree—"

"It's okay. Thank you, Emily," Chloe cuts in, earning looks of disbelief from the two when she proceeds to walk towards the corner, turning around it and passing the side of the manor with purpose on each of her step. She does hear the front door closing and Stacie's questions about weeping willows, on how exactly does Chloe find a god damn tree in the sea of trees and some exasperated comments about Beca's weird quirks.

And maybe it really is a _bad_ idea.

But if there was anyone who could find Beca easily, it has to be her. Nobody knows this of course and it's going to remain that way. Explaining the 'how' is easy, it's the 'why' that's what Chloe isn't looking forward to admitting. Too many secrets are involved in it and neither of them are keen on digging up all of that gloomy history again. Besides, Chloe always sucked in history.

Passing the garden, Chloe stops just right in front of the area of the wall where the vines are heavy, where the trail of gray and white pebbles stop. She also realizes that it's the only angle that cannot be seen by the moving cameras watching all over the whole of the school—believe it or not, there's actually a loophole in the security and Chloe still doesn't know what she exactly feels about that. She lifts up her hand to feel for the thick vines along the wall. When her palms reach the part where the vines seemed to have been moved, she suddenly feel something odd against the surface, she pushes slowly and to her surprise, the cement creaks open exactly like those secret doors that lead to secret passages. Whoever made it must've spent years planning how to build passages leading to the mysterious world beyond the walls.

 _Could there be more secret passages like this in Victor Barden though?_

Shaking off the thoughts in her head, Chloe looks up, sunlight is already seeping through the sky and soon the sun's rays will bathe the entire campus. If that happens, or when that happens rather, in a couple of minutes when she steps out of the forest—after she is done looking for the _queen of all that is wrong in this world_ —she'll be getting weak as if she's carrying something really heavy on her back, add in a light fever, prickly skin allergies and an eye irritation which would make her blind, temporarily, and maybe it's not really worth getting through all that trouble when she can just pursue that ambush plan of hers instead after the sun sets. But then again… _Tom_.

The faster she gets it done, the better.

Pushing back all those second thoughts crashing through her mind, Chloe finally takes one step forward into the Winter Forest. A certain chill blanketing her immediately as she instinctively hugs herself and even though vampires can survive the cold longer than humans she is thankful for the bit of warmth from her denim jacket as she cautiously treads around trees and roots sticking out from underneath the slightly damp soil. And maybe this is the worst idea ever. She wished that she should've worn trekking shoes instead of soft designer boots from channel and some jeans instead of her white floral mini-dress that ran down her thighs. But regrets do come later and she isn't turning back now.

Walking further, she turns her head towards every small noise she hears and it's practically useless with the sunshine being unable to seep through those thick trees, she couldn't exactly pin point what thing made what sound due to the place being a little dim but she hears them all. Also, vampires can see quite well in the dark so it helps her not trip on to things.

She could smell that scent, _her_ scent but it was faint and with nature surrounding her, Chloe is currently experiencing sensory overload. From the smell of earthy soil to that minty, sweet or bitter scent of different kinds of trees. At some point it felt like she was going further so she had to turn back and go the opposite direction. This happened twice and thankfully she hasn't had the need to cross the boundary of the scary red mark as the scent she is specifically looking for doesn't seem to go past it.

Minutes pass and she is about to give up when she gives it one last shot, pausing to close her eyes, concentrating hard as she inhales deeply and that's when it hits her. It may have been years since the last time she did it so she lacks practice but all it really took was focus and some unearthing of memories to almost ten years ago. Her face lights up in recognition of the familiar scent, going stronger with each step she takes until she is jogging towards it.

 _Beca._

She picks up her pace, almost running to a certain direction, the darkness slowly disappearing with every step. She almost stumbles forward as she finally reaches a small clearing where a huge old weeping willow, one of the biggest she has ever seen, stood basking in the center of morning sun, probably the only part of the forest where the sun breaks through.

It's beautiful, she admits. A magical sight to see.

Wasting no time, she hurries underneath its shade, letting the willow's long hanging leaves swallow her inside, to avoid the sun's rays surrounding it. Giving a sigh of relief, she takes a step around it before spotting a green army jacket peeking from a corner. Walking closer with the faintest possible sound she can make, she finally finds the Du Pont she has been looking for sitting on a flannel scarf tied to her waist on the ground by the base of the tree.

The brunette's usual fashion of black shorts, black shoes and black everything wasn't surprising at all, what was is her slumped form, back against the tree, head rolled to one side, resting at the crooked tree trunk. Her body remained still, her breathing even and slow, and lips parting ever so lightly.

Beca is sleeping.

Due to the sunglasses hiding her eyes, Chloe is unsure whether the brunette was aware, or already aware, of her presence. Whatever word attack she had planned a while ago fades away instantly as she quietly observes the sleeping Du Pont in front of her. She could hear the sound of music playing in Beca's earphones which she has long observed is almost an extension of her body, the only constant accessory Beca wears. The beat she hears is catchy and something Chloe would admittedly download into her phone but she wasn't here for an exchange of songs.

 _Tom. Right, she's here for Tom._

She hovers around the brunette a bit, debating whether to wait for her to wake up, shake her, kick her or return back home instead. To safety and comfort with her family. Besides, she's getting quite sleepy from looking at Beca's comfortable position. Maybe she just needs to sleep it all off and start again tonight.

Instead, she bends down a bit, her hand unconsciously reaching out to the side of the brunette's head where a small dry leaf has fallen down those shiny dark brown caramel locks. Her knees bend and almost kiss the ground as she moves closely, fingers slowly nearing the leaf that nestled in between those soft strands of hair, her other hand against the tree to support her weight as she leans forward. Beca smells like lychee and orange blossom flowers. Her olfactory nerves decide it to be a very pleasant scent. Another inch closer and finally, with all the gentleness that she could muster, plucks the intruding leaf off of the sleeping Du Pont.

"This tree is mine. Go find your own," a sleepy voice drawls out, making Chloe squeak in surprise, her heart almost jumping out of her chest as she pulls away in a flash, almost tripping as she straightens back up on her feet looking deeply flustered. It takes a few seconds for her to recover as she glares down at the female.

Meanwhile, Beca slowly stretches her arms before straightening up and pressing the 'next' button on her iPod, a new song playing. It's another awesome track, good for a weekend drive out of town, windows rolled down while eating ice-cream, but Chloe shouldn't really be taking note of all those unnecessary stuff.

 _Focus!_

Looking at the whole situation, Chloe eyes Beca in disbelief. Those big, bold, words, most probably a couple of death threats, she intended to rant towards the brunette in a cool and intimidating manner gone with the wind.

Instead, she starts with, "Why are you sleeping here?"

And before anyone could judge, it's a very reasonable question. Beca has a massive family manor and thus, definitely owns her own huge bedroom with all the comforts of home yet here she was in the forest, the creepiest of all forests at that, underneath a tree, sitting on the ground where you can accumulate dirt and attract bugs. She swats one away with her hand and finally the Du Pont looks up at her.

"Because it's quiet here," she deadpans. "A place without annoying, noisy, redheads who keep on stalking me and breaking the peace of my dark world," she continues in all her perfect sarcasm and Chloe isn't even surprised. Beca's a Du Pont.

Sighing and crossing her arms in front of her chest, Chloe counters, "There wouldn't be any if you stop pissing them off or ruining their lives and those whom they care deeply about,"

"Ah, I forgot to add," Beca replies almost immediately, cocking her head to the side as she continues. "Annoying, noisy, sarcastic and detestable stalker redheads who break the peace of the whole world," Beca corrects herself before pulling down her headphones to rest them on her neck.

"So, what? Is this a murder attempt? 'Cause I'm telling you, you should've plunged the knife straight at my heart while I was sleeping and now you missed your chance. If you want to do something, do it. Just jump," Beca says as if she was discussing the most boring thing in the world and Chloe frowns at the thought of her words. It's totally absurd and morbid. The Du Pont then takes off her sunglasses and soon Chloe gets acquainted with those dark ocean blues once more.

Biting the retort and insults hanging at the tip of her tongue, Chloe once again reminds herself why she was doing this _madness_ in the first place.

 _For Tom._

"I'm here because… life is about bargaining and survival," she says, pausing to take one last gulp before she makes the decision she assumes she'd regret forever.

"And you were wrong about one thing. I actually have something. Something you'd like. Something… that could satisfy you,"

The Du Pont looks at her without a word, and Chloe revels in the fact that she actually caught Beca off-guard for once. Those deep blue eyes, no matter how much they hide their emotion are currently unable to hide the surprise in them. So, Chloe decides to seal it in before she bumps her head and realizes what she'd just done. What she's about to do.

 _This is suicide, Chloe._

"I'm here to make a deal with you,"

Maybe Beca's words weren't so absurd after all. Chloe just went and took one hell of a jump in the end.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **What are you doing Chloe?** **Okay maybe it's time I tell you guys, she's very particular with leaves falling into someone's hair. It's like an OCD thing. Also, she _loves_ flowers, orange blossoms and all. Her actions _don't_ mean _anything_. I _swear._**

 **Emily is an adorable bean. Also, Stacie is secretly the mother hen of the family. Beca of course is the father figure. The real summary of the Du Pont family everyone.**

 **Parziwolf : Such loyalty. You deserve panda hugs and a place in the panda high council, my friend. Yes, wolves are invited too.**

 **Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, reviewed/commented (reviews/comments are the best*wink*wink*) and to those quiet readers (you guys could type in a letter and I'll still be happily deciphering your special message with hearts in my eyes). I appreciate it all so much.**


	5. In The Pouring Rain

**Chapter 5**

If Chloe were to be asked to recount all the worst memories of her life she'd most definitely have only one name tumbling out of her lips before one could even blink.

Beca Mitchell.

Actually, that awful memory of her complete and utter humiliation with regards to her lack of sexual experience on that stupid class debate wasn't the only scar Beca has given her. Even though college paved way into a more peaceful university life for Chloe due to the different courses they were in, it was still hard to forget the Du Pont heir's verbal attack and cruel mind games that have certainly been the reason for all her nightmares back in her last two years in high school.

Why the last two years you might ask? Why didn't Beca decide to target her hatred towards Chloe _before_ that?

Well, that's because the last time she saw Beca was back when they were on 6th grade, also known as the age of self-awareness and mood swings—and lots of anxiety. If asked, Chloe would say that she does not remember much that time due to the fact that she chooses not to remember or dwell too much on it so she completely shuts her mind when it comes to those _specific_ memories. What she _does_ allow herself to remember is halfway through that very school year, the young Du Pont had disappeared without as much as a concrete explanation. The general knowledge is that Beca had went back to France due to family matters and was said to never to return again.

Not until finally when Chloe had reached junior year in high school.

She remembers that day clearly. It was a cloudy night, the stars were nowhere to be found since a storm was brewing up ahead and strong winds had started blowing through the accumulating gray clouds. It had been a week since school has officially started and the cold drizzle happening in the night was making Chloe want to crawl back sleepily underneath her thick bed sheets. That was until, out of the blue Chloe's senses are quickly assaulted with a DNA scent so familiar to her that it makes her gasp and drop her notebooks. When she clumsily tries to recover from it, hastily picking up her stuff from the floor, then comes Beca Mitchell sauntering through the double doors of Constantine Albert behind her cousins. Everyone had instantly gaped at the newcomer as if they were pulled in by some strong force.

How could they not?

She, with her head held high along with that confident stride and dark Parisian fashion, well-toned abs courtesy of that crop top peeking through that black leather jacket, was a startling contrast to the awkward and shy girl she had been, the girl whom most people wouldn't even give a second of their time to notice unless they find out about her family.

Beca's arrival was honestly, at least in Chloe's point of view, is just like those scenes where the main love interest walks in slow motion, looking fine as hell, headphones hanging around her neck, the wind gently blowing her hair while a fresh and sexy Robyn Dell'Unto upbeat track suddenly plays in the background.

It had stunned Chloe so much that she literally stood rooted to her spot, unmoving, eyes glued at Beca who just passes her by without as much as a glance her way. The light fresh scent of her perfume trailing behind her—it could also probably be her hair conditioner or body wash but whatever it is doesn't really matter because she smells so good.

 _So damn good._

Beca had changed drastically that Chloe had almost believed that the girl in front of her must certainly be her secret twin sister. Her damp hair— _thank god for the rain_ —was let down and parted to the side in a messy but beautifully styled way and not the thick dark brown mop—as Beca herself had described—that also serves like a veil to hide most of her face back then. Her face has now more contoured into more defined features without a trace of even a single blemish on it. Her stance, proud and confident unlike the old Beca who would always look down on her shoes, body slouching as she gets flustered and extremely self-conscious. So, it wasn't a surprise when Beca Mitchell had instantly sprung up—well, she literally came in bringing a storm—on the 'hottest females of Constantine Albert' list that very day. A list that includes Chloe on it by the way, not that she felt threatened by it.

As a matter of fact, she actually agrees.

That was the first time she saw Beca in five years.

And never did she thought that her life was just about to flip and shake to its core.

Now, the first of these 'attacks' officially started happening during that damn school project. It was exactly two weeks after the school's annual grand race relay, the one where Chloe's team had won over Beca's. The brunette who has by now earned notoriety for being the school's black sheep as she literally redefined the term 'hot badass chick' has certainly garnered fame amongst the whole student body. Rumours have circulated that Beca took part in illegal racing, entered clubs that minors like her aren't allowed in, got herself into gang fights and hung out with people outside school whom anyone would find really shady. Basically, everything that screams wrong, dangerous, cool and oh, _so hot_.

Nevertheless the Vanderbilt wasn't really one to believe in baseless rumours. So, when fate decided to kick Chloe in the head she finally realizes that she'd been gullible to believe that Beca was just some misunderstood teen.

She wasn't.

She had been paired with none other than Constantine Albert's 'black sheep'—a complete shocker to everyone actually since never has a Vanderbilt been paired to a Du Pont in a long time because last time ended in a hospital and a lawsuit—and boy was it a twisted and cruel ride. Nevertheless, they got high marks, the highest one in terms of content and presentation, yes, but it left Chloe feeling like she had partook in a war that lasted for 20 years.

Beca hadn't made it any easier for her at all. Aside for always being late to their project meetings, no matter how Chloe had been trying to cooperate for the sake of peace, the brunette would always find ways to oppose every single one of her ideas and just when Chloe was close to losing it suddenly agrees with the very first idea she has suggested. It doesn't even help that Du Pont would then proceed to drink illegally stashed alcohol and doodle the very realistic _chest area of the female anatomy_ on Chloe's notebook while the redhead scowls in a corner trying to explain the importance of deadlines and passing the subject. Then there goes the strong 'accidental' shoulder bumps that is followed by a highly sarcastic, "Oops. Didn't see you there" when the hallways were wide and have barely any other students that time. In addition to that, there are those irritating instances when Chloe, who admittedly is a bit of a klutz sometimes, has her notebooks or pens slipping from her hands. She reaches for it instinctively only to have Beca beat her to it, holding the object in front of her. She would've been so grateful if only Beca wouldn't drop it right back in the ground when she is inches away from reaching to get it— _just like that golden trophy on that damn grand relay race, the one now sitting on her study table_. The Du Pont whose face is devoid of any emotion would then proceed to walk away like nothing happened as a fuming Chloe kneels back down the floor to pick it up.

And before anyone asks, Chloe has indeed tried to talk to Beca about what happened during that controversial grand race relay. Technically there was no foul play with what she did as kissing an opponent wasn't included in the list of 'don'ts'. She was even willing to apologize sincerely—even if she did _no_ wrong—but then before she could even get that out of her chest, Beca would slam her down with insults that stings more painfully than a wasp, or those Tracker Jackers in the 'Hunger Games', could and crush her in every competition they'd both find themselves in.

But then those were _just_ the small stuff.

Chloe had crushes just like any teenager and on her last year in high school the object of her affection happens to be Brett Dashner. Brett wasn't an elite but he was famous for his good looks, his tall height and his reputation as the school's star tennis player, which is also the main reason why Chloe got into said sport. But don't get her wrong, she did become genuinely fascinated in it along the way. It's just that the biggest credit for her new hobby goes to Brett for introducing her to the world of tennis. And despite the Vanderbilts' reputation of being a strictly pure bloodline who only chooses elites to well, mate and reproduce with, her unstoppable young heart wants what it wants.

So, here's the story, Brett happened to be invited in the same house party Chloe was invited to, much to her delight. She remembers walking in with her friends and thinking that maybe fate was really bringing them both together, that maybe it's time that this huge crush turn into something more. Which is why, Chloe had come prepared, dressed in a little cute peach dress with the perfect shoes to match, hair styled to impress, make-up light and fresh and a special smile meant to disarm the dashing athlete. Blessed by her friends' support and encouragement, Chloe finally drinks a bit of liquid courage, _Smirnoff Malt Ice,_ of course,before approaching the guy.

It was amazing how the conversation between them came easy and comfortable. At some point, they were laughing and having a good time dancing. Certainly, the night was going to end in a romance that Chloe had been dreaming of.

Except that it never happened and Chloe went home in tears instead of stars.

Why?

Beca Mitchell. Again.

Chloe had excused herself for a minute to go to the powder room where she met up with her friends. She was a bundle of nerves as she breathes in deep, preparing to confess her _feelings_ towards Brett. If the night goes well then Chloe would finally get herself a boyfriend, her first serious relationship, and so this was such a big deal to her. However, the minute she returns after a series of pep talks and some retouches, she doesn't immediately find Brett. Scanning the rooms amongst the crowd of teenagers dancing and chatting, Chloe finally finds him.

Only, she wished she hadn't.

Brett was by the pool, on one of the sofas and he wasn't alone. Straddled on his lap is Beca who takes a sip from a glass of blood before leaning down to meet his lips. Their kiss is heated, filled with lust and because her body seems to have lost its ability to function, frozen in slow motion, Chloe could only stare as her eyes start to feel a prickling sensation. The Du Pont then turns her head to the side, dark blues catching hers while Brett trails a series of kisses down the brunette's neck. There was no remorse on those deep blue orbs at all and Chloe felt like she had just been stabbed from behind with the way Beca smirks her way.

The worst part was?

Beca then untangles herself away from a confused Brett, who desperately calls to her, and walks away as if she'd already done her mission, breaking Chloe's heart. She wasn't even interested in him. She just wanted to hurt Chloe. That's how evil she was.

 _That's how much she hates her._

This is just one of main the reasons that Chloe takes into account as to why she would never trust a Du Pont for the rest of her life. It's the same when it comes to making compromises or any sort of deals with them. Chloe swears that she'd die first before she even thinks of making one with a Du Pont, especially Beca Mitchell.

 _Lies, Chloe._

"I'm here to make a deal with you," she confidently announces.

Although the second the words slip from her lips, a wave of fear and regret already hits her straight to the gut. She just hopes that it doesn't show on her face and give Beca the satisfaction of seeing her weak and vulnerable. She'd already decided that she's going to go through this black hole with her chin up—I mean what's the worst that could happen? In fact, the worst has already happened, as she bitterly recalls her demise in the Du Pont's hands through the years. Beca, who has already made her life hell, has already shown just how much hatred she has for her. She won't go farther than what she's already done to her, right?

 _Wrong. The depths of her hatred are still unchartered._

The silence is broken with a dry chuckle and Chloe's brows deeply furrow down the Du Pont who finally picks herself off the ground to level her stare. Her elbow resting on the tree's bark, hand against the side of her head and body leaning a bit to the side as she carefully studies Chloe. The sudden close proximity makes Chloe take a small step back, something in her chest doesn't feel right and she can't exactly pinpoint what it was. Only that Beca's deep blue irises slowly turn into different shades lighter, a mixture of blues blending exquisitely when you look at them closely.

"You really love that guy, huh?" Beca finally says, a brow perfectly arching up at the words. "Sweet, noble, brave and so, so dumb," she drags the last few words as she squints her eyes a bit and shakes her head like she's looking at something that smells of disappointment even from afar. Suddenly Chloe feels like she's just about to punch someone on the face. The one in front of her to be exact.

 _But would you really want to do so?_

"Excuse me?"

"God, I wish I could capture this moment forever and play it on repeat," Beca groans mockingly while Chloe closes her eyes and slowly counts up to ten before opening her eyes once more to that devilish smirk.

"I'm being serious," she almost growls and Beca hums as a response, looking up as if contemplating the situation. She straightens up after a few moments, the playfulness of her features disappearing.

"Of course you are," the Du Pont sighs and it just pisses off Chloe even more.

"Look, let's just get this over with. I'm here to make a deal. You're going to hear it out and eventually agree to it, everybody gets what they want and that's it! You can go back to your own dark miserable world and me on my own,"

Beca hums yet again before taking in a deep breath, "Alright, Vanderbilt. Let's hear this… _deal_ of yours then," there's scepticism in those eyes and Chloe is determined to make that disappear.

"You'll take down that video of Tom and help me fix that mess your cousins made…" Chloe carefully says before trailing off, her eyes becoming distant as she readies herself for the inevitable. Every fibre of her body wanting to turn away but then desperate people have the inability to decipher the line between right and wrong. Chloe is desperate and she's certainly going to regret this later.

 _But then isn't that's all you have? Regrets._

"And what could I possibly benefit from this?" Beca asks in a bored tone, head tilting to one side and arms crossed in front of her as she slowly drums her ring-clad fingers against her arm. A habit Chloe recognizes Beca has whenever she is impatient or anxious. Of which it was, she wasn't sure.

Chloe swallows hard as she returns her focus on those magnetizing blue orbs, "I'll… do anything you want. Anything. I shall be of service to you whenever and wherever you please until Tom finally gets released from all those rumours," she says slowly in a defeated tone.

She's sure Beca would consider this. Heck, the brunette would _love_ this. This would be the ultimate revenge for what Chloe did in the past.

 _The question is, which one of those two is it?_

For anyone who doesn't understand this concept of lowering oneself like this. All anyone needs to know is that it's the ultimate humiliation an elite, especially a Vanderbilt can get. It's like a great and noble king heading down the countryside to clean up the pig pen, like the president of a country coming over to your house to scrub your dirty bathroom clean or in a much more simpler analogy for the common folk, leaving the comfort of your home to go live in the South Pole and swear fealty to the penguins.

Chloe's most definitely the only Vanderbilt in the history of their bloodline to have done something like this. Her ancestors would've probably plunged a dagger to their heart or choose beheading over this, this slavery and to a Du Pont at that! But Chloe is desperate and desperation causes insanity _which leads to miserable doom_.

She expects another sarcastic laugh or some mocking comment about her _dumb_ decision but the only thing she gets is silence. Beca's slowly straightens her head and for a quick moment there, Chloe thought she could see those eyes soften. But she wasn't thinking straight so it could all be in her head.

"Let me clarify this," Beca starts, her stance now more domineering than ever. "That video disappears, I help clear all the rumours and issues until sweet, sweet Thomas Vanderbilt's reputation is squeaky clean as it once was. In exchange for my heroic actions you," the brunette pauses to slowly walk around her with careful steps, hands behind her like an observing supervisor, stopping once she is standing from behind before leaning in close to her ear to whisper, "Chloe Beale, shall be _mine_ ,"

Chloe almost shudders at the warm breath gently hitting the skin of her neck and the dark tone used. The weight of the deal suddenly dropping on her like a ton of bricks. She blinks, trying to focus, to be strong, to hide her fear of the path unknown. There are a lot of horrible scenarios being painted in her head but this was the only way. There's nowhere else to go.

"Yes," she says, it comes out soft and shaky but nevertheless, she was sure. Chloe doesn't just make decisions half-heartedly. Not when it comes to family and love.

Tom is both.

Beca continues to circle around her like a predator to a prey, finally stopping back to the spot she first stood. "I'm not entirely _cruel_ as you people think. I understand that you wouldn't want this to become public, right? Besides, a Vanderbilt being a slave to a Du Pont is going to cause unnecessary war and that's not really going to help with what you really want to achieve out of this deal," Chloe nods, internally sighing in relief at Beca's words.

"I'll never get to have my peaceful world back either," Beca muses, more to herself than to Chloe as she looks to the side, eyes getting lost in the sea of trees.

"It's going to be a secret. Tom doesn't know. He must never know," Chloe voices out and this time it's Beca who nods.

"Fine, that can be arranged. How do you suppose we seal this deal?" the Du Pont asks in a challenging tone and it's already something Chloe has given thought of so she answers without hesitation.

"By blood,"

A blood contract. It's the ultimate pact, one that is unbreakable and unescapable. Every vampire knows how heavy of a deal this is. Most of those who enter such contracts by blood are the elders. Usually this kind of contract involves issues that are bigger and heavier with regards to the entire vampire race or agreements between bloodlines. But Chloe needs Beca to know just how serious she was with this. She needs the Du Pont to stop treating her like an innocent child or look at her like she's stupid and incapable of holding up her end of the deal. Chloe has always been genuine and sincere but sometimes it is mistaken for trying to please people or getting people to like her.

She has never been fake.

She knows Beca thinks otherwise.

 _You know it's your fault why, Chloe._

"I don't have a knife with me but I can get—" Chloe doesn't finish as Beca reaches down to her boot to take a small dagger hidden within it.

Sensing her questioning look, the brunette only shrugs and answers monotonously, "You never know,"

Chloe doesn't even want to know the implication of those words.

Beca then looks at her, free hand facing up towards her as if asking for something while the other clutches on to the dagger. Chloe's heart hammers in her chest and she unconsciously rubs on her palms nervously before slowly offering it towards the waiting Du Pont.

"Well, isn't this familiar," Beca comments wryly as she takes Chloe's hand, facing her palm upwards while the Vanderbilt watches carefully, chest tightening at the memory. The Du Pont's eyes look back up to hers like a silent question of confirmation. The Vanderbilt spirit in her, eyes Beca back with the answer she doesn't hesitate to give.

Beca's hand is soft, there is a tenderness with the way she holds Chloe's yet also a feeling of assertiveness, another trait a worthy leader should have. And even if her palms were cold in contrast to her warm ones, it didn't bring any sense of danger. Or maybe these very hands brought about a memory like something that reminded Chloe of a time when she felt safe and… happy.

" _Now we'll never be truly apart, Chloe. Forever connected to each other,"_

" _Always and until the end,"_

Chloe's clouded thoughts are abruptly cut short by a sharp stinging pain as her eyes quickly look down at the blade slicing her skin and drawing out dark red blood pooling in her palm. She sharply gasps at the action, frowning at not being given a fair warning first. But she keeps it to herself instead as she watches Beca release her to do the same to her own. The Du Pont doesn't even flinch nor does Chloe see any trace of pain in those empty eyes.

"Ready?" Beca asks as if giving her just one more chance to back out.

Chloe looks down at her bleeding palm for a moment. After this, the deal will be sealed. She will be bound to Beca for some period of time, a servant to a Du Pont master. The lowest and most humiliating experience any elite could ever get. The thought almost makes her want to turn back and forget this ever happened. But Chloe had been taught that love doesn't come without sacrifices and Chloe loves with all her being until there's nothing left to give.

 _Liar, its guilt that drives you._ A voice speaks inside her and it continues to taunt her. _You are desperate, desperate to alleviate that guilt you carried for years, Chloe._ She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, willing those thoughts to disappear, to shut those taunting voices inside her.

 _You are pathetic._

Her eyes open, bright sky blues connecting with deep ocean blues and this time there is not even a trace of hesitation in them. She doesn't waver when she looks back up at Beca's steady gaze. She doesn't look away as she takes out her favourite handkerchief at the pocket of her sweater and stretches out her palm for the Du Pont to take. Wounded palms touch silently and soon blood from two different elite bloodlines meet, dripping down the white cloth as one.

She's made her choice.

* * *

She's down with a fever.

"Seriously, what were you thinking going out in the sun and soaking up all that nasty vitamin D?" Aubrey reprimands her while she groans incoherently against her pillow. She feels an ice cold damp cloth being gently dabbed on her neck and she sighs in relief.

"I've already called uncle and aunty to tell them that you're fever's gone down. Although I think they didn't entirely buy the excuse that you took a nap at the bench near the garden and forgot the time—I mean _I_ would never buy that," Aubrey sighs as she pulls the blanket up her chest.

"Thanks, Bree, and sorry for making you lie. I know you hate it," she mumbles, curling up on one side and hoping that her cousin stops asking why she got home late or where she went during sunrise.

"You owe me a five course meal, Chlo," Aubrey says while slowly brushing Chloe's hair to the side. Even Aubrey's fingertips are cold against her burning skin, a reminder that a vampire must never walk out in the morning sun for more than ten minutes. Chloe offers a weak smile and just when she thought she can finally rest, Aubrey's question makes her heart almost stop beating.

"Where'd you get this?" her cousin inquires with a worried tone as she feels a hand inspecting what is now a faint scar in her right palm. Normally one wouldn't easily notice but family is different, especially if said family happens to have vampire senses and can easily spot a freshly acquired wound. By instinct, Chloe withdraws her hand from Aubrey's, closing her palms into a ball and tucking it underneath the thick blanket.

"Well, you know me, careless and clumsy. Besides, I was a little distracted… with Tom and all that's happening," she says softly, thanking the heavens that she can use her fever as an excuse to drowsily close her eyes as she lies in front of Aubrey. Lies she seems to be full of these days. The funny thing is, Chloe's eyes were always known to be expressive which meant she wasn't really good in hiding things. One look into them and she knows that Aubrey could already spot the lie.

The blonde doesn't push it though and Chloe is immensely grateful for it. She just hopes that Aubrey won't take it the wrong way and think that she has resorted to cutting herself to forget her problems. That just wasn't her. She'd never do such thing! Also, she wouldn't want to be sitting in front of some therapist, sputtering angst and deep seated childhood issues just so she could hide the truth.

With those thoughts weighing heavily inside her head, she finally gives way to sleep.

Chloe dreams of being swallowed by the Winter Forest, drowning in the darkness and crying for help until someone reaches for her in time, gripping her firm yet tenderly by the wrist. She looks up to find gentle deep ocean blue eyes and a comforting curtain of brown tresses falling against her cheeks. She feels herself being pulled up, weightless and a wave of relief washes over her but it doesn't last long.

" _You promised… you and me until the e— b-but why?"_ A child's small shaky voice asks softly, echoing all around pleadingly and as Chloe looks back up again she finds tears spilling in those gentle eyes, hurt and pain evident in them. She tries to say something, trying to reach out and wipe those tears but Chloe feels her slipping out of the girl's grasp as fingertips desperately cling around her own, trying to hold on.

But still, Chloe falls into the darkness.

The alarm breaks in like a car crashing onto the window and Chloe is jerked awake by it, chest heaving, heart beating loudly and beads of sweat dripping down the side of her neck. It takes her a few moments to realize that she was in her bed, the sun had already long set beyond the horizon as indicated by the time. Time which was screeching back at her and somewhere around the Vanderbilt manor someone—probably Arthur—is groaning complaints at the noise.

Frowning, since she doesn't remember setting an alarm before passing out—must be Aubrey—she reaches out to tap the alarm away and silence reigns in the house once more signalling the start of her night. Although, this night didn't start quite right, Chloe picks herself up sluggishly towards the bathroom to splash her face with cold water. The bite of the cold snaps the sleep and heaviness off of her as she stares at her reflection in the mirror and sighs. Her mind travels to the images that haunted her in her sleep and followed her even as she opens her eyes like shadows creeping up behind her.

But Chloe was good in suppressing things. So good. If that was a sport, she'd have awards by now. When she heads down to the kitchen, freshly showered, hair styled in the perfect beach waves and dressed for the day, all of those nightmares are gone as if they never came. By now, she's had already missed two classes and in spite of the very tempting urge to stay in bed for the rest of the night she knew she had one more class past midnight and being absent the whole day just didn't feel right. She'd take any distraction at the moment.

She was just about to head out when her phone rings. Fishing it out of her bag, her heart sinks and dread washes all over her as she reads the caller's name.

 **Evil Queen**

It's a bad sign and Chloe knows it. Breathing in deep before swiping the answer button, she closes her eyes as she puts it close to her ear.

"What is it?" she asks.

"Is that annoyance I hear, slave?" Beca's voice comes in, a tone of mockery and sarcasm dripping down from those words. If this happened a week ago, Chloe would have fought back with another insult and ended the call even before anyone could say 'Goodbye' but that was a week ago. Tonight however, Chloe just swallows down all her anger and smiles the most painful smile she'd ever had to do before answering in the most cheerful voice she could muster.

"No, your highness. Hearing your voice is like the cherry to my ice-cream," she says as she grips on to anything solid, in this case the small center table in the foyer, in order to restrain herself from throwing away her phone at the wall. "What can I do for you tonight?" she asks, silently praying that whatever it was, wasn't going to be as hard as the morbid visions in her mind.

"Good," Beca comments, sounding distracted as if she was flipping the pages of a magazine in some salon. "I gave your number to somebody. They are going to ask for me and you're going to tell them that I'm… dead or whatever excuse you can come up with out there that will get them to fuck off,"

Chloe's frown deepens with each word, although she's also curious as to who this person is that Beca is trying to get away from so badly.

But before she could even get any more details Beca continues, "Also, don't get sick. A sick slave is a useless slave. Come to the house after class," and before Chloe could even breathe out a word the line goes dead.

As soon as she realizes that she'd just been hung up on, all that bottled up anger bubbling inside her explodes as she lets out a frustrated growl—which is very hard to evoke out of her, by the way.

"I am going to smother her in her sleep, feed her dog poop and drag her to the sunlight so she could burn—"

Her words are cut short as her phone starts to ring once more. Only this time it was an unknown number. She hesitates for a few seconds before deciding to just get it over with.

"Hello?" she answers.

"Hi, Beca?" a female voice answers back and Chloe wonders what this woman did that has the Du Pont making up a bunch of excuses just so she could get her to _'fuck off'_.

Wracking her brain for any excuse because she certainly can't tell the woman _that_ , Chloe settles with, "No, uhm Beca's not here. She is in… France! You know, family matters," she says, hoping the woman would just buy the lie and leave it at that.

But of course, things with regards to anything that involves a Du Pont doesn't always come easy.

"Is that what she told you to tell me?" the female asks, there's a hint of disbelief and hurt in there and Chloe is internally panicking at this point because only then does she make sense of the French speaking in the background and the accent the female clearly has. Which means she's been caught. She tries to say something, anything but she comes up with nothing.

The female on the other hand, has quite a lot to say, "Is this her way of breaking up with me? Are you her new girlfriend?" this time the female's tone goes deep and very deadly. "Okay, listen up, bitch, you give the phone to Beca right now or I will rip you to fucking pieces!" she screams along with a couple of French insults and Chloe has to actually put the phone far away from her in order to save her ears from bleeding.

This may have been a negative start of the day but she isn't Chloe Beale if she doesn't find anything positive out of it. She could actually vent her anger and frustrations to somebody, something she badly needs to do right now or she'll explode. Besides, she can't possibly tell any of her cousins her dilemma.

Thus, the misplaced venting begins.

"No, _you_ listen to me, bitch. She doesn't want to talk to you ever again. She'd rather die than be anywhere near you and your whiny little ass. So, stop calling my girl or I'll make sure you and your family will vanish off the face of the universe! Oh and by the way, fuck off!"

She presses the end button with much force that it almost creates a crack on the screen, her chest heaving from so much emotion as she massages her temples. She had to admit, it kinda' felt good to throw away some of that negative energy piling in her chest. It's only then that she feels a presence behind her. She whirls around and finds Scott standing behind her with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"I think you should rest some more. You clearly still have sun fever," he says monotonously, which irritatingly reminds her of a certain Du Pont, as he passes her by and walks out the door before she can even explain herself.

Sighing, she follows him out but her phone is ringing again and Chloe's blood is starting to boil once more at the sight of the unknown caller flashing on her screen. "Oh, she better be apologizing or I swear, I'll hunt everybody she loves," she grumbles before answering.

"Hey babe," a guy's deep voice beats her to it, much to her absolute confusion. She checks the number twice and finally realizes that it's a different person this time. When she places the phone back to her ear, she catches some of the guy's words.

"Want to hang out on my place tonight? We could continue where we left off last time," he says suggestively and Chloe couldn't take any more of this cringe-fest so she finally replies. "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number,"

"Oh, I thought this is Beca's." and as he says this Chloe should have known that this wasn't entirely a coincidence. "Well, if you see her can you tell her that I can't wait to see her at the party on Friday. You can come along too, you sound beautiful. The three of us could maybe have some _fun_ , if you know what I mean—"

"Nope, not happening. Bye," she hits the end button again and shakes her head in disgust. As it seems, Beca seriously has questionable taste in people whom she hooks up with.

However, Chloe has barely had time to recover from that last call when her phone goes off for the third time tonight. With her hands on her hips, she hangs her head down as she finally gets why Beca made her do something she initially thought was simple. Of course, it isn't. Apparently, Beca has given her number to throw her one night stands—those who can't understand the concept of a one-night stand—off.

"Hey sexy, remember me?" the next caller says and this time it's another female.

"Beca's dead," Chloe replies quickly before finally turning off her phone and throwing it down her bag. She pauses for a moment looking up ahead towards her original path before turning in her heels and walking off in the opposite direction instead. To hell with her class. It's not like she's going to be able to concentrate anyway.

If she can't have a peaceful evening then Beca shouldn't have one either. As a matter of fact, hating someone is like a double edged sword. As much as you'd want to _see_ them suffer at the same time you wouldn't want to _see_ them around _all_ the time either.

Guess, she's just going to _see_ just how much Beca can tolerate her presence or just how long until the Du Pont starts running off to the hills only to avoid her. If those phone calls are anything to go by, Beca gives a lot of importance to her personal space, her own peace and quiet.

And if there's one thing anyone should know about Chloe Beale, boundaries and personal space don't exist in her world.

 _Careful there, Chloe. This looks familiar._

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **A little Bechloe history here. _High school junior_ _Chloe, keep it together please, you're sparkling rainbow heart eyes on Beca's abs is showing, sweetheart_. **

**And so the fun begins. It's going to get even crazier from this point. Chloe may now be a slave to a Du Pont but that certainly isn't going to stop her from challenging Beca. Guess this also means our cute Vanderbilt is going to be hanging around the Du Pont manor a lot. There are more hidden secrets and unresolved issues here but they'll all unfold in time. Be patient. We'll get there eventually. But for now, may the best elite win or that _the odds be ever in their favor._**

 **Parziwolf : Uhh uhm well I have to admit... as you sent that comment of yours, I was just in the process of... recovering from the flu.**

 **Yuzu-chi01 : YES to badass Beca. She may look chill and all but you have no idea yet just how badass this girl is. You'll see it soon.**

 **Kasia143 : Hope you like this new cliffhanger for you to think about. *evil laughter in a distance***

 **Thanks for reading! Stay safe and healthy guys! Even these pretty vampires get sick. So, take care and drink lots of water- 'cause _some of you are obvs sooo thirsty_ ;)**


	6. The Moment That You Wander Far From Me

**Chapter 6**

Slave.

From the Old French word _esclave_ is defined via _reliable_ internet sources as the condition of being legally owned or is a property of another person and has to work for said person. Origins of slaves are traced back since the ancient of times and has since then evolved through the years. Yes, through the years. If people think that slavery doesn't exist in the modern times then they're most probably ignorant because slavery _still_ exists until today. The only difference now is that it's called differently, housemaid, house help, servant, interns, you, etc.

In the vampire world, slavery also exists. Especially among the elite bloodlines. Ever since the early history, these elite families have been buying slaves to work for them or provide blood whenever needed. Basically, these slaves are either indebted to the family or were slaves by birth. They also serve as live blood banks to the wealthy. Obviously, this means slaves back then are usually non-vampires who have made certain deals for a number of reasons and are holding their end of the bargain through an eternity of forced labour. And if anyone is wondering why the vampires aren't worried of the human slaves letting their secret out to the world well, any smart and sensible human certainly would never cross a being that could actually end your life before you can even say the word 'vampire'.

However, being a slave to a vampire sometimes isn't as bad as people think. Elites take importance to loyalty and if ever these slaves prove themselves worthy enough to earn the family's trust then they are ultimately rewarded. An example of which is owning property, earning their salary, salary which makes the ordinary human salary look like a school child's lunch money, becoming vampires themselves and even several lifetimes of support for them and their families.

So, that's basically everything there is to know about it.

Now if you want to ask more questions regarding the world of slavery then I guess it's better to forward your burning questions to Chloe Sofia Beale, a modern day slave to the heir of the Du Pont's high seat, Rebecca Olivia Mitchell Du Pont.

"So, it is true," Stacie mumbles with her mouth full as she chews on her snack, looking highly amused as she opens the door to an exasperated Chloe.

Sighing, the Vanderbilt doesn't say a word because she knows it's useless to even argue and just makes her way inside the manor. She heads directly up the grand staircase, passing by Jesse who looks up from his phone, eyeing her in surprise as he yells a "The world ended already? I still have lots to do! Parties to plan! A soulmate to find!" towards Stacie who yells back from below, "By soulmate, you mean you haven't looked at the mirror today yet?"

Their conversation ends with Jesse yelling back obscenities followed by threats then ending with something about giraffes and afterwards running down like his life depended on it when Stacie goes to throw away his, presumably, favourite pair of shoes out the door.

Shaking her head, Chloe continues towards the Du Pont she's _indebted_ to. She passes by the lounge area in the upper floor where Stella and the twins are hanging out. The younger Conrad had her glasses on, a fact Chloe only knew now, as she read a book while the twins sat on both her sides throwing in comments—which are more distracting than helpful—about Confucius and his teachings.

"Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it," Stella reads out loud, an eyebrow arching up as she looks at her cousins, most likely waiting for their unbelievable explanations.

"Oh, oh I know this!" Nate instantly dives in, eyes wide and body shifting into a position that reminds Chloe of a child explaining his favourite cartoon characters.

"It means if you wake up with someone you fucked last night and they feel like cooking you breakfast, doing all those vanilla stuff with you without a care about your morning breath or your swollen morning tomato face then fucking marry them," he describes passionately, arms flailing around to drive his point.

"Yeah, marry the fuck out of them and make babies 'cause you know that shit's for real, man," Nick adds before hi-fiving with his brother while Stella looks from one twin to the other as if they are aliens and shaking her head in disbelief.

When Chloe's presence is finally felt the three suddenly go quiet. Eyes, filled with incredulity and surprise, focusing on her. And Chloe should've known that this is her cue to hurry up her pace and find Beca fast because—

"You see that specie, Stella?" Nate asks while putting an arm around the younger Du Pont and pointing at Chloe who narrows her eyes at him. "That's a Vanderbilt. Their scientific name is _Arrogantus Selfishisus Uptightus Braticus_ ," he continues as if hosting some documentary show about animals.

"Their habitat is the one place in earth that you don't want to go," Nick joins in, dramatically motioning in the air as if they were overlooking some jungle. "It's filled with the stench of shart and bloodline racism,"

"They get pissed and all red faced when poked and prodded so do poke and prod whenever you encounter one. Also, bear in mind, they will bite you from the back when you least expect it so don't _ever_ turn your back in front of one. Lastly, it's best to do the poking and prodding right in front of their faces with a stick," Nate adds in as he reaches for a ruler and points it towards Chloe like he is in a fencing match along with some 'shooing' noises like she were a stray cat that had accidentally wandered in the house.

"That's funny, do you get awards for that? Clown of the year, I bet," she retorts, tone venomous and eyes looking at him with disgust. It irritates her more when he smiles with amusement instead.

"Ooh, heard that? Clown of the year," he smirks, lowering the ruler to look over at his twin brother, Nick, who lets out slow claps mockingly.

"Sarcasm suits you well, Chlo Bear. Some of our awesomeness must've rubbed off on you last time. You almost sound like a Du Pont. I'm so proud. This is an accomplishment. It's our goal to spread the Du Pont virus in the whole world," Nick adds, looking at her in fascination, his eyebrows arching.

Chloe would love nothing more at the moment than hang them upside down like those things in children's birthday parties to grab at with as they go up and down.

Thankfully, before she could do anything she'd regret, the door to her right opens and out comes Emily, looking wide-eyed at Chloe then at her sniggering twin cousins.

"Beca's in her room," she suddenly blurts out, motioning over to the door at the far end and that snaps Chloe from jumping into a war of words with the monkeys.

Clearing her throat and glancing at the young doe-eyed Du Pont, Chloe lets out a small smile. "Thanks, Emily," she says softly before walking off with purpose. She doesn't forget to throw an icy side glare towards the twins as she passes by, her annoyance clearly seeping through that one brief motion.

Finally, she reaches the door, ready to be the most obnoxious slave in the history of slaves for her _great master._ The thought almost washes away the anger of being mocked by the Swanson brothers earlier. Oh she will surely get her revenge and she is going to do it by ruining all of Beca's peaceful nights. Two can play this game and Chloe has all the motivation to win. The goal is to have the Du Pont heir kicking her out of the house before the end of the week just because she won't be able to handle all her crazy and finally, Chloe will get to win over that smirking little witch who thinks she is so irresistible to every—

 _Oh._

The moment she barges in her eyes connect with smooth bare legs that anyone would love to run their hands through, well-toned abs—which is certainly _not_ the reason for Chloe's jaw relaxing and dropping, soft curves in all the right places, places which one should take time to be acquainted with and those really perfect swell of breas—

 _Holy mother of—!_

"God! I-I'm so sorry! I just—I didn't know—I'm so sorry. I should've knocked," Chloe stammers, her hands coming up to cover the sight in front of her as she quickly averts her eyes upwards and turns around in a flash. Her cheeks are quick to turn a deep shade of pink while the room suddenly feels like a sauna, one without the mist and smoke.

It doesn't even help that the only thing that keeps popping in her mind was the image of Beca standing beside the bed, hair in a slightly dishevelled mess, wearing a black lacy underwear underneath her open—barely even there—red silk bathrobe, the soft clothing hung around her shoulders with one side already slipping down her elbows.

Those awkward seconds start to pass and Chloe feels like running away, far away from this embarrassment, "I-I'll just go wait outside," she coughs out and moves back to the open door only to be beaten to it with Beca already reaching out to close it.

"No need for that," the brunette drowsily dismisses and Chloe catches the huskiness of her voice that sends lots of weird feelings inside of her. Beca clearly didn't look like she had left her room and Chloe wonders if she too has intentionally skipped classes. Her thoughts cut short however when she feels Beca standing next to her which is again making her feel all these sorts of foreign things.

 _What is wrong with me?_

Her mind short-circuits and she might as well pass out from the close proximity right then and there if Beca hadn't moved away after a couple of moments. Chloe doesn't even realize that she had been holding her breath nor that the Du Pont had actually reached out to get the bottle of red wine behind her, one which Chloe recognizes. It's French— _of course_ —and very expensive.

"Want some?" Beca asks and Chloe looks at her dumbfounded for a couple of seconds. When the brunette lifts up the bottle of wine only then does Chloe understand the question.

"No thanks. I uhm don't drink this early," she says distractedly as she tries to find interest in the interior and not at the unabashedly display of skin while owner of said skin just hums, looking like she'd already figured that she'd decline before pouring wine for herself to drink.

The Du Pont saunters back towards the side of her bed which was huge for one person, although the thick dark sheets looked comfortable to snuggle up in. With her back towards Chloe, Beca places down her drink on her bed side table and ties up her bathrobe— _so Chloe's breathing can go back to normal_.

At this point, Chloe finds it surprising that the usually sarcastic brunette wasn't being, well, sarcastic or acting like her cousins were to her earlier. It was also noticeable that Beca's face was bare and honestly, she looks prettier without all those thick eye make-up and dark red lip stick. She might as well be an adorable puppy with the way she yawns and rubs her eyes.

"You're early. Too eager to serve, I see," Beca comments before taking a sip from her wine, ocean blues looking at her teasingly.

 _And there it is._

Of course, the witch finally awakes and she lives to ruin Chloe's life. Thankfully, this snaps Chloe out from her absurd thoughts earlier. Who was she kidding? With make-up or without, night or day, dressed or undressed, Beca would never fail to make her blood boil.

Rummaging through her bag, Chloe takes out her phone, lifting it up and eyeing the Du Pont darkly. "Exactly how many people have you given my number to?" she asks, eyes following every move Beca makes as the Du Pont walks over to the opposite side of the bed and comfortably sits down on the sofa, grabbing her phone to idly check on her notifications.

"A few people," Beca breathes out without even looking back up at her.

Chloe takes a deep breath, trying to gather her patience while she cautiously walks closer to the Du Pont until she is standing in front of her.

"It's not like I'm complaining but," she pauses, exhaling loudly as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Look, I can answer every call you'd throw my way but it seems like you've forgotten that we had a deal to keep this, this arrangement, you know, a _secret_?" Chloe says, trying to quell down the irritation in her voice as she stares down at Beca who didn't even appear to be listening to her.

"Uh, huh," Beca mumbles, her fingers sliding up her phone as she scrolls through what seems like Instagram photos of different women. Specifically, women looking at the camera seductively, women clad in bikinis at the pool or the beach, women posing in for cute selfies, throwing winks and pouty, kissy faces that makes Chloe want to flip a table or break a phone.

If there is one thing in the world she hates the most it's being ignored, especially when she's trying to point out a very important issue. And maybe admittedly it has also to do with the fact that she's been the center of attention from the time she was born, doted upon as a child by everyone, the bright eyed princess of the Vanderbilt household. Moreover, she's part of the prestigious organization, namely the Victor Barden's Nox Theatre Troupe and co-founder of the Pure Heart foundation which helps underprivileged children through music. She's also an affiliate of È più forte l'amore, another non-profit organization that stands against bullying and harassment amongst teens. In short, Chloe's voice has rung through large opera houses and auditoriums, using singing and speaking as an instrument to spread kindness. Every time she belts out a note or speaks on a podium in front of the public, people _always_ listened. She never babbled nonsense and besides, it was just the polite thing to do whenever someone is talking.

She can't stress this enough.

Sometimes, she just wishes people would learn to listen then maybe… they can hear that subtle cry for help of those who are _falling and drowning_.

"What the… fuck?" Beca's deep tone of disbelief as her eyes look up to meet Chloe's, the Du Pont's phone right in the palm of her hand after it had been harshly snatched.

Beca's really scary when she's about to get angry, Chloe had almost gotten acquainted with that dark side of the brunette's. Almost. She knows pissing Beca off is something she doesn't want to do. But this is honestly the only way to catch the Du Pont's attention.

"You need to stop giving people my number. We had a deal," she slowly emphasizes each word clearly. "It won't take long until your _happy hour buddies_ recognize my voice and start gossiping, yes gossiping, the reason why _I_ entered this deal in the first place, a deal which by the way, includes keeping this whole arrangement a secret!" Chloe says, chest heaving as she gestures at the space between them.

Silence hangs over them both as bright blue and deep blue connect in the midst of it all.

Chloe doesn't immediately think of the consequences until a red warning light flashes in her head so she simmers down, visibly uncomfortable at the current situation.

"We had a deal. It's not just any deal, it's a blood contract. Maybe for you it doesn't but this means everything to me. So, please… please, at least, pretend to be serious about this," she says softly, her voice almost pleadingly.

Beca stands up to level her gaze and Chloe tries not to flinch but when the Du Pont takes one step closer, she instinctively takes one small step back, the back of her knee hitting the coffee table behind her. Beca takes another step, crossing the line between personal space and comfortable distance. Chloe's trapped.

"Those three… _happy hour buddies_ of mine will never guess that it's you," Beca begins, her voice deep, slow and condescending. "It's the last thing anyone would even think of," she steps even closer and Chloe's body freezes, unable to even think clearly.

"Your doubts are quite… offending. A little patience wouldn't hurt now, would it?" Beca tauntingly says as she reaches towards her, gently taking a few strands of Chloe's hair by her fingers, running it smoothly against her thumb and forefinger.

In that moment, time slows down, the noise fades in a distance to be replaced by that soothing voice and only a deep sea of calming blue is all she can see. She feels like drowning in it. It's so, so… mesmerizing. She doesn't even make sense of the words being said anymore, not when it's this deep and alluring. "I must say, this behaviour is _very_ unacceptable, slave. It deserves punishment," Chloe's red locks slip in between her fingers and in a smooth motion, she takes the phone from Chloe's hand. Only then does she step away.

 _Only then does Chloe exhale shakily in relief._

"But that's understandable. For someone who has never been in such position. I'm going to let this one pass for now. After all, the first time always sucks," Beca continues, her tone settling back to normal before sipping on her wine. "I did call you here for a reason. However, you're here early than expected and none of that is my fault so you'll have to learn how to wait and shut up. That's what slaves do, in case you didn't know," there's sarcasm in it and it breaks the daze she was in.

 _What just… happened?_

Chloe turns around to face the Du Pont who settles her glass down one of the wooden display cabinets as she types down something on her phone and hits send. "But," Beca finally looks back at her this time. "If this insolence happens again, there will surely be consequences and this time I won't be kind," she says with an air of menace in her words. She then turns away, heading off to what seems to be her bathroom, untying her bathrobe and sliding it off her down the floor as she does.

Chloe's heart continues to beat loudly in her chest as she places a hand to hopefully calm it down. She sits down on the sofa where Beca sat earlier and sighs.

 _She's so screwed._

* * *

Chloe does find herself as the center of attention but the thing is, she'd rather be hidden in the dark if said attention belongs to all the Du Ponts. After half an hour waiting for Beca to shower and dress up, she follows the brunette—quietly—down the kitchen where the rest of the Du Ponts were. At first it seemed weird that they all decided to hang out in the kitchen until it became clear that they were all actually waiting for Beca. As soon as the Du Pont heir sat on one of the stools in the kitchen's center aisle at the very end, they all had their full attention towards her. Meanwhile, Chloe stands awkwardly behind her, unsure where to even place herself.

"Nick," Beca calls out as she inspects her nails. It sounds more like he'd been ordered to do something and she's expecting results.

Chloe hears a heavy sigh coming from the Swanson as she looks at him trudging from one of the kitchen counters to the center aisle to sit on the side. In his hands, a laptop which he opens. His twin brother joins him a second later, plopping down wearily next to him and bearing the same defeated look. Nate then turns to Beca, showing her what seems to be like his pouty puppy face.

"Do we really have to?" he asks in a softer voice, almost like a strangled whisper while he fidgets uncomfortably in his seat like he was being coerced into something he absolutely hates. Stacie who was cooking from behind rolls her eyes before shaking her head towards the twins while Jesse who was leaning next to the fridge looks like he's holding back a laugh with how wide his smile was. It certainly is telling that this hasn't been the first time the two mischievous Casanovas had been put on the hot seat for something like this.

Beca's answer comes in the form of a dead cold look his way, making him quickly avert his eyes down to his feet with a sigh. It's only then does Chloe notice how strong Beca's power of authority is in the Du Pont house. It was actually such a weird thing to witness. Beca's never one to display her authority in public. From what Chloe observed, the brunette always hangs out in the back to dose off, letting her cousins do whatever they like and not caring about all the crazies they were attempting to do. When asked all she'd do is just shrug and put up her headphones, entering a world of her own. Sometimes, Chloe would even spot the Du Pont heir being dragged reluctantly by her cousins to some party where she'd make a beeline for the beer bottles and make out with the first person she'd find interesting.

Or maybe she just didn't realize that Beca's style of leadership was far from Tom's. There's freedom in it and despite her lack of strict rules it is clear that all of them had such deep respect for her. She didn't have to pull out the leader card or address herself as the heir. Beca just has that effect, that strong force to be respected and followed.

"Done," Nick sluggishly says before turning the laptop around towards them. Chloe instantly perks up at what she sees. The video that is currently ruining Tom's reputation has just been deleted.

Finally. It's a small step and there are lots more to fix but it's a good start.

The twins both sigh for the hundredth time as Chloe's gaze fixes on Beca's back. The Du Pont heir waves off both Nick and Nate with a quick gesture from her fingers and soon enough it's as if nothing happened. The cousins were back to their playful selves again, cracking dirty jokes earning groans of complaint from both young ones. Stacie goes back to cooking while Jesse helplessly endures some teasing from his brothers about his choice of women. Eventually, all of the Du Ponts make their way to the center aisle, automatically grabbing a chair to sit down and eat.

"I want pancakes,"

Chloe snaps out from her thoughts as she realizes that Beca was talking to her or more like, ordering something from her.

So, she ends up making pancakes, mixing the batter aggressively, throwing in all her anger in it.

"Can she make me pancakes too?" Nate abruptly asks, mouth full of omelettes and bacon, the one Stacie is proud of making, his question directed towards Beca who without looking up from her phone answers back a flat, "No,"

"Can she clean my room?" Nick asks this time but also gets slammed by another flat, "No,"

Now Chloe is doubting whether or not it was even a good idea to have the whole Du Pont household knowing about this little deal between her and the evil queen of Mount Gloom and Doom.

"Can we at least use her to clean the pool?" this one coming from Stacie and Chloe almost drops the pancake she is making when after a worrying pause Beca finally answers an, "I'll think about it,"

 _Breathe, Chloe, breathe, inhale then exhale. 1, 2, 3…_

"I want a slave too," Jesse whines out loud. "Can't I borrow her for like a couple of hours? I'd like to have my shoes shined," he says afterwards and Chloe thankfully had enough control not to throw a spatula their way. It's already annoying how they are talking about her like she's not even standing only a couple of steps away from them.

Why couldn't these Du Ponts just sit in their grand dining area and leave her to herself instead of crowding the kitchen aisle like a bunch of eight year olds again?

"No," Beca thankfully replies and Chloe lets out silent sighs of relief before walking towards the Du Pont with a plate full of pancakes. She lays it in front of Beca who pauses for a moment from browsing on her phone to look at the blueberry topped, icing sugar dusted and maple syrup drizzled dish like a skeptical MasterChef judge. Only then does it also occur to her that Beca never really told her what kind of pancake she wanted and now Chloe is worried that the Du Pont would have her throw it away— _her precious efforts_ —and make a new batch. It was purely instinct for her to make them that way. It was honestly how Chloe… remembered it.

" _Becs!"_

" _Chlo? But aren't you supposed to be—"_

" _Shh! Keep it down! I got you something,"_

" _You did? I—Oh! Pancake!"_

" _They're not just pancakes, they're blueberry pancakes. Your favourite!"_

" _You… made these for me?"_

" _Yup! Well, when you said that you missed those pancakes your mother used to make I raided our kitchen and made them. I did have help though. Told them I was craving for it so—woah! And here I thought you hated hugging. Uhh… Becs, a-are you crying?"_

" _You remembered… It's just… I was having the worst day. Thank you, Chloe. Thank you for being here, for being... you. You're… all I have and I guess… that's all I really need—_

"Sit down," Beca's voice snaps her back to reality and Chloe feels like she fell down the ground from a 50 storey building. When she comes to, she finds an empty seat next to the Du Pont heir and an extra plate of pancakes. When she sits down in a rather, uncertain manner, Emily who sat across Chloe, on Beca's right, passes her the omelettes while Jesse keeps everyone's attention with his party ideas for Emily's upcoming birthday. Everyone quickly offers suggestions, ranging from wild to insane, whilst the young Du Pont starts to decline each one of said suggestions. It's also noticeable— _shockingly_ noticeable actually—how, for a brief, almost a subtle, moment, Beca lovingly pats Emily on the head, her arm sliding lazily to drape around the younger brunette, and tells her to just do whatever she desires before eating a forkful of pancakes like nothing happened.

Chloe's blueberry pancakes.

The action sends Chloe slowly threading through nostalgic feelings she tried hard to ignore. When she takes a bite from her own plate, she can't help but glance back at the Du Pont heir, eyes already cast down to her phone like she deemed the conversation boring and childish. It's easy to label Beca as uncaring when she looks like she chooses to ignore the rest of the world but it must be a common mistake. What one does not easily notice is the way the brunette's lips twitch ever so lightly, eyebrows arching at some moments and eyes momentarily glancing around at her family with every joke they crack and laugh about.

It almost makes her believe that Beca doesn't really ignore the world. She actually listens. That maybe, she actually… cares and Chloe can't help but wonder more about the aloof and cold heir. Beca obviously _still_ likes blueberry pancakes and music. It just makes her want to know more. About whether Beca has… really changed deep down _or not_. If that little girl is still alive inside, hidden under layers and layers of walls, protected from any more of the _pain_.

 _Was that hope she feels? Did she really just—_

Shaking off those thoughts completely, Chloe looks at the noisy table filled with laughter and never-ending banter between the Du Ponts. It was so different. So strange. So… _warm_.

* * *

"Has somebody told you yet?" Scott's voice greets Chloe as she arrives home and when she only stares back at him clueless, he points at his iPad. "The video's gone, the one with Tom," he explains as Chloe moves to pass by trying to pull out her best impression of surprise.

"Really? That's great!" she nods, barely even glancing back at him as she makes her way to her room.

"Have you told Tom about it? He's not back yet," Scott replies as Chloe's steps slow down, turning to glance back at her cousin briefly before focusing her eyes somewhere else.

"I," she pauses suddenly realizing something. "Actually haven't talked to him yet," she slowly says. "I guess I'll just wait for him in his room after I change," Scott nods in understanding. After all, it's Chloe that should tell Tom first.

She moves to continue her way to her room but her cousin's words make her stop.

"You smell like pancakes. Blueberry,"

Chloe's heart almost drops but she catches it just in time. Nodding, she answers easily, "Yeah, I was craving some earlier so I stopped by the café for some,"

He stares intensely and curiously at her for a while that Chloe almost thinks he has it all figured out. After a few tense moments however, he does a quick nod and answers back.

"I see, actually Aubrey bought some sliders a while ago, guess I'll take your share then," he says with a small smile on his face.

"Oh no-uh, no way I'm passing up on that," she quips. "Don't you dare touch my share, Scotty!" she warns, half-joking as he shakes his head with a smile and walks back to his room, finally leaving Chloe.

When silence resumes across the whole manor, Chloe swiftly changes into more comfortable clothes, ones that don't smell like pancake or omelettes before entering Tom's study. When he arrives an hour later, she hugs him, tightly, almost clinging. He stumbles back in surprise but nevertheless, places his arms around her waist. She looks up at his face for a long moment and when he lets out a confused, "What?" she simply shakes her head and forces a wide smile on her lips. Pushing down the unexplained heaviness she feels bothering inside of her, she gives him a quick kiss, once, twice, thrice.

It's guilt, right?

It's probably because she had to lie.

It's not because there's this feeling like something was missing, something she had felt earlier that dismembered all her thoughts, engulfed her lungs, and twisted her insides, something she is currently trying to feel once more.

No. It's definitely not that.

 _I've warned you about this, Chloe._

* * *

 **A/N:**

Hello. Well, uhm, I guess I have to start by explaining why I didn't update last week. And it's because I... was learning how to play the guitar and my... precious fingers weren't in the best condition, thus, I couldn't really type anything for days so yeah... BUT I can play a song now though! ;)

 **But anyways, finally, here's an update!**

 **Comiiksde: Aww. Thank you, you adorable muffin.**

 **RJRMovieFan: Oh, but Chloe doesn't exactly have memory loss. She just chooses not to dwell or even allow herself to remember that particular memory 7, 8 years ago. Reason? _We will find out soon~_**

 **Kasia143: Nice guess. Is it the right guess though? _Only time will tell~_**

 **Sa0621: U-Uh I... uhm... won't break... your heart... uhhh... trust me... ? *wink wink***

 **Parziwolf: What? B-But I thought I made it clear! The blood and the night classes! Ohh boy. I forgive you though, wolf. Also, I'm feeling fine, no more sickness! :) :) :)**

 **Thanks for reading! Will update next week, I promise!**


	7. I Wanna Feel You

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Beca Mitchell starts her day late.

Always and without fail.

But does it matter?

No.

First, she wakes up with a headache which ranges from mild to raging, depending on the type of party she was in yesterday in the afternoon. Honestly, it's rare that vampires wander out in the day to go party, that is, if you don't know exactly where to party or which party you should be attending. For Beca, connections is always important. It was one of the two lessons her _dear_ father had taught her—the second one is intimidating people by just one look—and frankly, she was just being the good daughter that she is. Thus, the countless connections she has. Connections to clubs, owners of said clubs, women and–sometimes—men in said clubs, DJs playing in said clubs, musicians, cars or any type of vehicle, legal and illegal, weapons, also, legal and illegal, security you can bribe, hackers, and even the mob, yes, the mob, any kind of mob. As a matter of fact, she has connections from Canada to Berlin, Russia to China, India to Brazil and even down to the islands of the Pacific or at least, every place her father had thrown her in. It's not like she would exactly fit anywhere thus the throwing, like she was some baggage to be dumped wherever he decided it to be dumped. That's what happens to the rebels and rejects, the troublemakers and the outcasts. Always unwanted, pushed far away, unwelcomed. That's what she is, outside the spotlight of being the next heir of, currently, the most influential and powerful vampire in the world. At the age of nineteen, Beca Mitchell has walked almost a huge percent of the world, learning as she travels whilst barrelling through harsh and unforgiving conditions. Her dagger, the only thing keeping her company through countless Christmases, birthdays and any occasion which she deems worthless.

The sharp blade, her only _friend_.

Ah, that word. Beca's allergic reaction to it is truly grave. It's the type of condition no doctor in any universe can fix. Beca strongly believes that friendship is just an excuse to use people to your advantage. Friendship? Trust? Love? Ha, she'd say none of that is real. There are no such things. They're all feelings people conjure up and romanticize just to give their lives meaning. It makes her vomit.

And it sucks to exist.

Sometimes, Beca wished she hadn't.

But that's another story.

Moving on, the second thing Beca does when she starts her day is of course, a glass of rich, fresh, type B blood. Take note, it has to be type B. It has that that specific sweet and slightly bitter flavour that rolls well against her palette. Like dark chocolate. Sometimes she mixes it in her wine while she checks her notifications from any of her huge number of _connections_. Every time she does, how she wished to be someplace else instead.

Ibiza sounds perfect this time of the year too.

Sighing, she throws her phone to the side, the device bouncing on the cushions. She hates being confined in this university, one of her many prisons. She could be chasing danger anywhere around the globe right now, the thrill of always being high on adrenaline pumping in her veins tempting her to break out from Victor Barden. She could always just face the consequences later on.

Well, what's new?

Standing up to stretch and heading towards the bathroom to shower, hopefully, washing away the stench of all the _resentments_ she has in life. Although, washing it away completely is just far from happening. It continues to cling to every part of her body. There's a very long list of them she needs to drown away, most of which would need the help of alcohol and music. But for now, a cold shower would do.

Beca's never really been serious about her classes. It's not like she'd die if she didn't attain a degree. It's all just a waste of time when her future is already set on stone the second she was born. Nevertheless, she walks to the Kern building, her eyes carefully following Emily and Stella. The two best of friends are the first to break away from the group, making their way to their classes as Beca quietly ensures that they both get to their rooms safely and by safely, having none of those older Vanderbilts bullying the little Du Pont sweethearts. _God, how she detests the 'B' word._

Her dark blues scan the room for the only Vanderbilt present in her younger cousins' evening class, Scott Vanderbilt-Collins. There's something about that kid that Beca admits is a little different from the rest of the Vanderbilts. It doesn't pass her when he subtly glances towards the girls' direction. Of which the two he was glancing at, Beca has a good guess who. Her observation skills, honestly better than any high-definition CCTV camera, polished through years of training, and she's been closely monitoring the youngest Vanderbilt since the start of the school year.

Leaning her shoulder lightly against the wall opposite the classroom, she lingers for a while in secret. The youngest Vanderbilt seemed to be focused on his book but the way his eyes would quickly dart towards her younger cousins stirs something inside Beca. It's a familiar feeling. She's seen this before and from experience, it's not good news. This makes Beca's stare turn deadly, a growl ready to rumble from her chest while red starts to colour around her irises, slowly washing away her ocean blues.

She's always observed that Scott doesn't look at a Du Pont the way his older cousins do. Beca initially thought it was a good thing. He wasn't the type to care about the feud which means one less person to worry about. But when those green irises trip away from the plethora of words condensed into a hard bound book resting in his hands towards soft chocolate brown hair and bright sunny smiles, this changes things.

Scott Vanderbilt-Collins is a threat.

Adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, Beca leaves as quietly as she had come. Dark blues finally becoming more prominent while the slightest tinge of red slowly ebbs away. It's not a good idea to lose control out in public. She'll have to do something about it but now is not a good time. It's all about timing after all.

Walking away, she reaches her classroom but doesn't stop, passing it by. Her feet taking her out towards the university's huge and high iron gates where security promptly opens it for her, like always.

Perks of being the heir.

In a few moments, she is sliding into her black Bugatti and cruising out of the borders of Bartholomew Cross and on to the next town, Westenra, where she parks in front one of its establishments, Club Dusk. It's a small club compared to the ones in the big cities but it's a club nonetheless.

Club Dusk was exploding beats by now. People were starting to get tipsy, dancing recklessly all over the place as Beca makes her way with ease towards the bar on an empty chair that only needed to have her name carved on it to make it officially hers. Every regular knew it was her seat. The bartender, Flo, a Hispanic woman, smiles at her as she cocks her head up. In seconds a drink is whipped up and placed in front of her. It's the usual, her favourite dark red colour, her poison of choice.

She downs the liquid, burning down her throat and warming up her neck and cheeks. Finally, her head's slowly going back into that hazy comfort and the whole world seems right even for a moment.

"You're up in ten," Flo breaks to her as Beca narrows her eyes back at the petite bartender. She takes another big gulp, this time finishing up the contents of her drink before getting back up on her feet and heading towards the DJ's booth. She is greeted by patrons who quickly recognize her even through the dimness and flashing red lights. She gets a couple of taps and pats at the back, a couple of handshakes and some flirty winks along the way. One stands out and it belongs to a dark haired girl wearing a sexy green dress and she's already had her eyes thirstily glued to the Du Pont. Beca smirks at that, the night's already promising as it is.

The crowd cheers as the set ends and the DJ manning the booth gives a wave before heading down to greet Beca with their usual handshake. Luke gives her a pat on the shoulder with some words that sounded like "Go do your thing, kitty, make 'em go wild" before he goes off to hang out with the ladies.

Beca goes up the booth, headphones on and after a few moments, heart and soul lost to the music. Moments like this are the only escape she has, the only time she can truly breathe, moments when she is high from the exhilaration of every note played, every rhythm, tempo and melody. Her thoughts forming into a blur until all that's left in her head is nothing but a dark pit of inexistence. She lets the bass go and her heart pumps to the beat, blending into the music as one. Her eyelids flutter close as she throws her head back, the flashing lights blinding, intoxicating. It feels like running towards a cliff, never stopping even as she reaches the edge. But instead of falling she spreads her arms and flies. When the climax descends back down she too crashes back from her high and soon her feet hit the ground once more.

When she finishes her sets, Beca goes back down for more of that burning bitter liquid, arms now full with a warm body, hands tangling around her neck, dark hair covering her vision. Perfume fills her lungs but it's not a scent she is fond of, it's too strong but it will do. Anything will do at this point, anything to distract her mind from wandering far into dangerous places. Distractions have always been her remedy, her pain killers that she has to take every four hours or when needed.

The warm naked body underneath her writhes, a breathy moan, a scream of pleasure, nails digging down her skin. Red returns to replace her dark blues but it's a lighter shade compared to earlier while her lips part to show two thin white fangs that had descended down to replace her canines. The beating pulse drums in her ears like another kind of music she'd want to immerse herself in. She grips the moaning female's face with one hand, fingers on her jaw, forcibly turning it towards her and as soon as their eyes connect the deal is sealed. The woman falls into a trance like state, eyes dropping low but not closing as if she were drugged. Her neck lay bare and exposed as Beca leans down lips parting, fangs ready to sink deep into soft skin.

Ring.

Beca's closed eyes pop open as she pauses but the incessant ringing doesn't stop. It breaks the silence, the mood, her high and the woman underneath her from her trance. Beca closes her eyes to sigh in annoyance. When she opens them once more, dark blues search into the pocket of her jeans which laid haphazardly on the floor of Club Dusk's private room. She then answers the call without even checking who was calling, ignoring her companion's protest at the abrupt disruption.

"Are you heading home, dear master? I'm in front of your room right now. Can I come in?" the warm chirpy voice rings from the phone's speaker and Beca's jumbled thoughts suddenly clear up, suddenly finding its center. Frowning, she pulls the phone away from her ear to squint at the bright screen. Being bathed in the dark and red blinking lights for so long, it takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as the name of the caller shows.

 **Idiot Slave.**

"No—" her cold words cut short when the chirpy caller beats her to it.

"Oh never mind, Emily let me in. I'll just go ahead and clean up your room then,"

Beca's brain suddenly buckles into a complete stop, dazed thoughts crashing into a wall as her entire body goes rigid. She then moves away harshly from the other body she was getting closely acquainted with, a frown forming in her features.

"Don't touch my stuff, Vanderbilt," she growls lowly, angrily grabbing her pants from the floor as she stands up from the sofa, ignoring the other female's disappointed pleas.

"But it's my job to ensure that you live in a clean and comfortable environment. I'm just being an obedient slave—oh! This is cute! A stuffed otter! It's an otter right? Mine's a red panda," there's some shuffling heard in the other end of the line and Beca almost loses her cool. She doesn't. Biting the curse words she would've spat out loud a second ago, she exhales instead.

 _This ginger idiot._

"Put the otter down," she slowly says in a dangerous tone, emphasizing the last word.

"Does he have a name? Or, wait, is it a she?" there's unmistakable glee in the tone used and Beca's in the brink of breaking something.

"I said drop it, now," she orders.

"What? I didn't do anything wrong,"

 _That's it._

She hangs up before another word spills across the line and puts on her jeans before hastily grabbing her shirt and jacket. When she slips into the black leather jacket she gives the female one last look, leaving her with a wink and leaves.

She's inside her car in seconds, running a hand through her hair as she presses the power button. The engine roars to life before she speeds back to Victor Barden with intense focus and a number of curse words, locked and loaded.

It's been a week since this master-slave blood contract came to life. Of course, it was mostly to her advantage, seeing the bubbly redhead scrunch up her face in irritation whenever she orders her to do the most absurd of things. Other than cooking, cleaning and doing most of Beca's Russian Literature papers—even though Beca is secretly fluent in Russian—the Du Pont has admittedly turned her into her own personal entertainment whenever she got bored. But hey, it wasn't her fault if the slave showed up every single day without even being called and there's just a lack of ideas for her to think of.

She had already made the Vanderbilt princess sing, play an instrument, dance and re-enact a scene from that movie called Twilight—complete with the sparkly sparkles.

" _Why can't you just download the movie?"_

" _And where's the fun in that? Now go on, just… stop dousing yourself with glitter,"_

" _But this is necessary because they sparkle when hit by sunlight,"_

" _What the… fuck?"_

But then as it turns out, the energetic little monster is the type to pee on your favourite chair when you are sleeping.

Three days ago, Beca had decidedly spent her evening at home when the redhead dropped by unannounced with a bang, wrecking her peace and quiet as she carries props from theatre practice. It took so much control for her not to scream when her precious electric guitar almost got hit by that damn horse head. Not to mention, the amount of glitter her sheets were sporting afterwards—the rule that her bed and closet was off limits to slave hands only meant she'd have to clean all that pink and blue shiny little objects by herself.

The excuse of the idiot slave?

" _I didn't have time to go home and besides, I'll only just get a ton of inquiries when I head out again. At least, I'll have 'fixing the props' as an excuse,"_

The nerve.

Beca wasn't a fool. As a matter of fact, she catches on pretty quickly. The redhead was doing her own silent revenge underneath the façade of being a _good_ slave. The faux sweet innocence in her voice—because yes, she can tell, no matter how schooled in acting you are—is already making Beca want to strangle a rabbit. The sparkly idiot also has this bad habit of bouncing around wherever she goes, like Beca had grown a tail that can chatter for hours, persistently asking her about anything that comes to that idiot brain of hers.

" _What ice-cream flavour do you like?"_

" _If there's one that magically shuts out noisy idiots then that's my favourite,"_

" _What perfume do you use?"_

" _Death. One that kills pesky little idiot birds when inhaled,"_

" _Are you a cat or a dog person?"_

" _Which one breathes fire? So, I can have it attack annoying idiots,"_

" _Have you—"_

" _No,"_

This is war. That Vanderbilt clearly thinks that she's going to win and Beca is determined to put her in her place. So, she storms upstairs when she reaches the manor, all her cousins jumping and swiftly moving out of the way as she passes by. When she reaches her room she opens her door and enters with every intention of punishing those that needed punishment and there's nothing that can sway her other—

Blueberry cheesecake?

The sweet and creamy dessert was offered in front of her face, inches from her nose, catching her off-guard for a moment. Behind it, a huge smile and lively bright blue eyes belonging to that idiot slave.

 _Look at this idiot grinning like a… well, idiot._

"This was from the new menu of Café Dawn. I stopped by earlier and bought a slice. It was so good which is why I went back and bought a whole cake. But then I don't have anyone to share it with 'cause Aubrey is organizing this book event, Claire is with her current boy toy, Arthur hates blueberries, Scott's hibernating in his cave, editing his film project and can't be bothered. Tom is in his usual conference video call and—"

"Stop," Beca quickly says, a hand up in the air to stop her. "I don't care," she coldly replies as she stares hard at the redhead.

"This is delicious, C Slave!" Jesse's voice cuts as he peeks from the open door, a slice of blueberry cheesecake on his plate, mouth full of the dessert. If Beca had been aware of her surroundings earlier she would've immediately noticed the little cheesecake party happening in the living room, all her cousins gathering around the coffee table where a blueberry cheesecake sat, already sliced down to half.

Beca slams the door shut, the noise outside ceasing quickly into a quiet murmur. She then turns to the culprit of her unfortunate night, small plate with blueberry cheesecake still being offered in front of her. It does look delicious but instead of taking it, she walks around it, taking off her jacket to throw it over at one of the single sofa chairs. Her fingers fly up to her temples as she massages the brewing headache in her head.

"You don't like cheesecake?" the Vanderbilt asks and there's a hint of disappointment to that tone but it could very much be that innocent façade act she'd been playing at all week.

Oh how she really hates fake people. They're like up on her list of things she hates. Scratch that, it's the very first thing on her list of things in life which she hates.

Beca sighs before facing the redhead once more, her eyes landing down on to the otter tucked in Chloe's other arm. "I don't like it when people touch my stuff, especially when said stuff is found in my bed where I specifically ordered it to be off limits to overly cheerful intruders," she says sharply, snatching it away harshly from the others' grasp. She turns towards her bed, grabbing the blankets and placing the stuffed toy underneath it where it had always been hidden whenever nosy idiots come around.

"Technically, the floor where I found your otter near your bed isn't off limits so I wasn't breaking any rules," she sing songs the last few words and Beca mentally kicks herself in the head for being careless but she's not going to admit the mistake. Never—

"You really have to try this cheesecake. Plus, its blueberry, your favourite!"

As soon as the words ring out of the Vanderbilt's lips, Beca stiffens. Silence follows as if a bomb has exploded, making her temporarily deaf to the world. Her inside's stir as if she ingested something toxic, deadly. Her chest feels tight like someone was gripping her heart and slowly squeezing the life out of it. A memory enters her head for the first time in a long time before she could even stop it. She quickly forces it violently out of her system. First it was the old nickname at the party then the pancakes and now the stupid cheesecake. By now, her balled up fists were shaking with so much emotion, jaw clenching hard, eyes shut tight. Her mind still struggling to keep out the unwanted memories and it's a good thing that she has her back turned towards the cause of all her building rage because she's so close to losing it.

So she wants to play it this way, huh? Mercilessly cutting open old scars and rubbing salt vigorously all over it. They really do love to play dirty, don't they? She wouldn't even be surprised if the blood contract was just a ruse so they can torture her into insanity. The video wasn't even her idea. She even fixed their god damn problem and this is what she gets? She was fine in her own world, keeping to herself and then these Vanderbilts enter like they own the place, stomping around as loudly as they want. Evil. So evil. All of them. Her pain, their joy. That's how sick, twisted and cruel this world is. Well, what else did she expect?

 _Trust no one._

The slave was saying something, chattering fast and stumbling around with her words but Beca can't make out any of what she was saying. She was too consumed by the flame of anger burning inside her. If it wasn't for the telephone ringing, she would've done something drastic, something that would cause real war and maybe even expulsion.

The telephone. The only telephone in the house. It has been connected to the manor way, way before Beca was even born. It has actually been replaced into a newer model every ten years ever since telephones started existing. Everyone in the Du Pont family knows that direct calls from this phone were to be answered immediately because it only meant two things, family and emergency. Which is why it has to be placed at the room of the bloodline heir.

"Aunt Katherine," Beca breathes out as she hears the caller on the other line, anger forgotten momentarily put on hold. It was Emily's mother and Beca suddenly realizes it's that time of the month again.

"No, it's okay I wasn't really doing anything. I just got home," she says, tone softening as she looks out to the balcony overlooking the gardens. Her eyes drifting past that and unto the huge wall enclosing the whole campus, her legs wanting nothing more but to head out to the forest as soon as possible.

 _The nightmares couldn't touch her in there._

"Emily is doing great. She's a good kid, aunty. She's doing great in her classes and enjoying campus life," Beca continues to say. The image of Scott earlier suddenly entering her mind and bringing back the dark cloud hanging over her head as she talks about Emily.

"Yeah I know, her birthday is coming up in a couple of days and she said that she wanted something simple and intimate. Just an outdoor picnic dinner with family and close friends," she recalls, already mentally listing the important details in her head.

Beca goes on talking about the rest of her cousins, rolling her eyes at the mention of the twins and sighing when she talks about Jesse and his latest heartbreak. She only has positive words when she continues on to the younger Conrad but a shake of the head when it comes to the older Conrad whose own academic competition with Aubrey Posen is still ongoing—yup, Stacie's taking it seriously now. Her lips finally break into a small smile at this point. Clearly, the youngest ones are the better Du Ponts. At least, she can easily say that the future looks bright with regards to the young ones.

She was just about to say her goodbyes when a sudden pause in the other line fills Beca with dread. She could already sense it, trouble. Her posture unconsciously straightens, body tensing as if preparing to, and for an, attack. It's a habit she's acquired since childhood whenever her father's presence is felt.

Darius Corbin Du Pont.

His voice ice cold, deep and almost sinister. Anyone standing in front of him would naturally shudder and even cower in fear. His steel dark blue eyes that Beca has inherited were always unreadable. There was no warmth in them and Beca has never felt any kind of affection from him even when she was young. That's what happens when you are the spitting image of your mother. The mother who left Beca when she was barely 8 years old.

Robbyn Mitchell-Du Pont

She was named after the robin as she was born to human parents at a time when the little bird merrily sung a beautiful tune by the window sill. Her parents already knew then that music would be such a huge part in her life. They weren't wrong. What they didn't expect was Robbyn becoming a servant to the moon. The fangs that have turned and claimed her to the dark belonging to none other than her very father. Although hard to believe, Darius had gave so much love and received just as much, or maybe even more, in return. It run deep and Beca… was the product of that love.

A love she deems a mistake.

That's what happens when you let your heart be captured by that stupid bond. The unbreakable connection of two sworn lovers that transcends even death has driven countless souls mad after their other half ceases to exist. Half of your heart dies along with your beloved. Beca swears she'd never open her heart to be laid vulnerable and bare in someone's hands. Thankfully, it won't be hard. Nobody would want it anyway _._ Nobody would take it even if she'd offer it, raw and whole. Especially when they see the state it is in.

 _Bruised and broken._

"Father," she says, distant and detached. The words that then follow from the other line is something she's heard ever since she was young.

" _How long are you going to keep disappointing me, Rebecca?"_ the tone in which he says it is calm, each word rolling slowly and smoothly in his tongue but it wasn't soothing, not when those are the words he chooses to enunciate perfectly.

" _You bring nothing but disgrace to the family name. All the women, your noisy music and your wild little stunts that I keep having to cover up. You haven't even been attending any of your classes,"_ this time there's a sneer and bite with each word, all a slap to her face.

" _Don't wait for me to take action and—"_

"And what?" she finally speaks up, an action no one would ever think of doing, voice shaking and wavering with so much rage. The amount of control she is showing surely must be commendable. "Where are you going to send me to again? In which dark part of this world are you going to throw me this time? What kind of methods are you going to have them do in order to enforce sense into your messed up, alcoholic, psychopath of a daughter? Tighten the loose screws and break the bad bones, what else is new?" she spits out bitterly with a sardonic smile.

" _You dare challenge me now?"_ he growls, a rare occurrence but Beca is proud of it. It takes a lot to rile up Darius Du Pont. _"Oh yes, I'll have them break whatever is needed to be broken inside of you in order to throw out all that is rotten and replace what is needed to cleanse out the wrong. Mark my words, I don't care how intense and harsh it will be. Enjoy your last year in Victor Barden while you still can because I'm sending you back to Russia,"_

The line goes dead. Beca doesn't feel the sting in her balled up fists until after a few moments have passed, her nails cutting through soft flesh with how tight she was clenching them. Her breathing was deep and quick that she was sure she'd collapse any moment now. _Nothing new_. But then no matter how familiar or how _used to it_ she was, the sharp pain at the center of her chest ached like it always does. The feeling carries through her unfocused eyes, a sting coming up from the back of her dark blues and her vision starts to blur. She fumbles for something to hold on. Her shoulder bumps against the wall as she steadies herself against it.

A distraction, she needs a distraction, fast. She needs to survive. She needs the feeling of being high, the burn of alcohol in her throat, the loud music blaring her senses, those dizzying flashing lights, the heat of a throbbing pulse, the thrill of falling off a cliff, the pain of a blade slicing through her flesh to numb out everything else.

And lastly, the familiar warmth of soft hands encasing her own.

"Beca?" a soft voice breaks the loud ringing in her ears as she finally gets a grip of reality, her darkening vision finally lightening up. And then she feels it, warm soft hands really clasping her own. She stares at it before glancing up to find a pair of sky blue eyes, watching her.

Chloe Sofia Beale.

Painfully beautiful, sweet, loveable, Chloe. The Vanderbilt's precious princess. The girl whose gorgeous bright blue eyes lights up a room and dazzles everyone who is lucky enough to be the center of its focus. With her every trace, her every step, a flower is born, blooming into vibrant colours. The girl whose gentle touch on Beca's cold palms creates waves of nostalgic warmth, of some kind of safety, _solace_.

The girl who also pierced one of the sharpest and longest thorns straight into Beca's heart, breaking the stitches she thought would finally heal her wound. Instead of recovery, her heart shatters into a million broken pieces which then broke again and again afterwards.

"Hey, breathe. I got you," Chloe gently says, worried eyes searching her face, her fingers wrapping around her palm tighter as she steps closer. The action sets a loud warning alarm off her head and that's when she finally makes sense of everything.

She'd been careless.

It instantly resonates across her entire system horribly as she flinches from the simple touch, almost jumping back. She had let her guard down for a few moments and she of all people knew that, that's what is going to kill you. Once you become careless that's when your enemies strike you hard.

She jerks her hand away harshly from the Vanderbilt's touch, the motion setting a chain reaction as she accidentally hits the plate the redhead was holding on her other hand. The plate smashes unto the wall loudly.

"Don't you fucking touch me, slave!" she lashes out. "Get out!"

The Vanderbilt abruptly steps back, a frightened gasp leaving her lips with Beca's sudden outburst. The look on her face was a mixture of fear, shock and hurt but she wasn't fooling Beca.

 _Not this time._

"I don't need your forced sympathy or your useless words of comfort that do nothing but make me vomit. I don't need you," she sneers, eyes dangerously on the brink of turning red so she turns away. "This is what you wanted right? Well, you got it. So you better run, run before I lose whatever self-control I have left and hurt you," she threatens. "Go!" her voice booms as the whole manor suddenly goes dead silent. The rest of the Du Ponts knowing immediately not to bother her when she is in this state.

With a soft whimper, the redhead's chest jumps at the violent tone. Those bright blue eyes seemingly losing its vibrancy. Meek and uncertain feet slowly move until they were rushing to the door, the creak of wood opening and closing with a bang. A soft sob ringing from a far.

Then silence.

It was only then that she can finally breathe, shoulders sagging as she leans against the wall once more, allowing herself to be fully vulnerable now that she stands alone in the dim room. Her empty gaze lands to the floor before the colour of rich violet catches the corner of her eye.

Cake was splattered all over the floor along with the numerous shards of broken pieces from the plate it was in. As broken as she was. Thoughts suddenly fill up her head, evoking the feelings she's buried and locked deep within. She lets them all rush in, too tired to fight it constantly. Tonight's okay, she thinks. She can let them slip for just moment.

There was a time once when even the word 'blueberry' had given her comfort and joy, accompanied with gentle smiles and hugs that could take her breathe away, _take all the pain away._

Her most powerful distraction.

She chuckles to herself sarcastically. It's pathetic to think that the only happy memory she can conjure up in her head at times like this happens to be that thorn still painfully lodged in her heart. She knows it's also sinful to do so but she can't help it. At the darkest times of her life, it was only those 'happy memories' that had kept her sane... even if they weren't exactly real.

 _"W-Was there something I did wrong? Please... please talk to me. Please... Chloe, don't leave me,"_

Right, they weren't even real. All of it, only a lie. So, she holds the tiny pieces of her shattered heart ever so carefully, shielding them from any more damage by placing them deep, deep down, locking it away from those who threaten to destroy all that's left.

With a swift move she crosses her balcony, lifting her legs over the rails. She grips the cold metal tight before jumping down the ground below, like she always does. She then threads towards the familiar path, passing the garden until she reaches the massive wall. She pushes open the secret door and slips in stealthily, the darkness welcoming and swallowing her completely.

 _The nightmares can't follow her here._

She's finally safe.

And there goes another day in _paradise_.

Tomorrow, the cycle continues.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hello loves. As promised, I am on time today!**

 **We have Beca's point of view this time because I think we all need to know a little bit more of our cold and aloof but a softy deep down cute little otter. But things are seemingly heading in the wrong direction because our baby otter has just lashed out on our poor baby red panda (yes Chloe is a red panda because have you seen a red panda? I don't blame Kendrick for falling in love with that adorable furball). Now things look bleak but I urge you guys to hang on tight because next week is no joke. I've started writing the next chapter and I am going crazy because FINALLY we have come to this! We're already down 7 chapters! Time does fly so fast when you're having fun (god I hope you guys are having fun).**

 **Parziwolf: Oh yeah there will be a lot more flashbacks with angst. Thanks for the love. I feel it. Totally. Deep down my heart.**

 **Yuzu-chi01: _"_ _We need your fingers! We LOVE your fingers!"_ OMG. I can't-! I need to have this printed and framed in my room.**

 **Kasia143: Hope you got to eat pancakes this week. I also hope you like this chapter which is about... blueberries this time so... i guess it is only right that I tell you that next week is about cupcakes, cookies and brownies... and nope _I don't like food_ at all. Btw, you're right, I don't feel that much pain from guitar playing by now. Got em calluses.**

 **Comiiksde: Yup, my fingers are fine! Thanks for the tip. And well, you know the easy beginner stuff, Wonderwall, Ain't no sunshine and now learning some Coldplay.**

 **Sa0621: Oh darling, if I do break your heart know that it is never my intention to do so. If however, said grave misfortune does happen, I am sending all the chocolate and pizza I could give along with soothing music, the warmest of hugs and a Bechloe Forever pillow to mend it.  
Love, redchocopanda - ****PS: Shhh nobody should know how sappy we are~!**

 **mp0427: Hey there! Welcome aboard the redchocopanda express! Hope you do stick around till the end.**

 **Thank you for reading Midnight Sunshine! To all the new followers, those who favorited and reviewed, thank you so much! And most importantly, THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO WERE WORRIED ABOUT MY FINGERS! I AM SO TOUCHED BY YOUR CONCERN. I PROMISE TO TAKE GREAT CARE OF THEM. :)**


	8. In My Arms Again

**Chapter 8**

* * *

They came without a warning, blanketing the once beautiful night with the scent of death. They came bringing in chaos and hysteria. In a flurry of panic and terror, people clamber to save themselves. Blood curling screams are heard everywhere but despite all that, her body remained frozen down the ground where she had fell, knocked on the shoulder by a rushing body.

It was then that Chloe realizes one thing in this moment of absolute disarray, it was then that you'll find a person's true self, who they really are deep down. When it comes to it, would they run or would they stay? Would they kill or spare? Would they betray or would they save?

A hand grabs her, making her gasp and she fears this is the end, her whole life flashing before her eyes.

She's going to die.

* * *

 **9 hours ago.**

Chloe stares up at the ceiling as she has been for the past hour. She hadn't slept well all day, not when she keeps waking up to the dreams that have relentlessly visited her for the past four days.

Four days, it's been that long since that incident in the Du Pont manor. Four days of Du Pont free abuse. She could remember it so vividly like it just happened a minute ago and she couldn't stop. The look on Beca's face before she raised up all her spikes, aiming them at Chloe as she hid behind the walls too high for one to climb. Every word she spat, burning on her skin like venom and acid combined. But despite that, all she could remember was that one moment when the brunette looked at her, lost and vulnerable. Much like the Beca she knew before… _Chloe ruined it all._

She shut her eyes tight, a crease forming on her forehead.

 _It was your fault, you know that._

When she opens her eyes, she turns her head to the side, eyes landing on the single black invitation card, designed with sparkling hanging lights against a beautiful dark brown paper set as its backdrop. The words 18th birthday celebration, food and music written in a classy font. The main highlight of it? The name Emilia Mitchell-Stein right at the center.

The young Du Pont was going to be celebrating her birthday in a couple of hours at the Du Pont garden and Chloe was among those who were invited. She got the invitation two days ago when the adorable Emily shyly handed it to her. The young brunette had followed her to the bathroom just so she could invite Chloe. Admittedly, she had grown fond of her. Emily was genuine, kind and helped her around the kitchen whenever she was playing slave to… a certain Du Pont. They've even shared music and movies. Emily was just the little sister she never had and in some way also reminded her of a time ten years ago where she had shared… _rich_ history with another brunette Du Pont. Thus, her dilemma. She badly wants to go but of course, it wasn't that easy. Other than the fact that her presence in a Du Pont celebration would then again raise eyebrows, Chloe would also have to face _her_.

Beca, the name that keeps swirling inside her head these past four days. She groans as a turmoil of emotions spark within her. She hated—which is probably a stretch because deep down it isn't purely that—that Du Pont and it was true that her intentional lack of boundaries was a part of getting back at the young heir but she never meant for what happened to happen. Beca is rude, highly sarcastic, full of herself and insensitive at times and Chloe has been at the receiving end of all that. But…

 _But_

There are times when Beca would, somehow… slip? It was just the tiniest of moments though but still a slip is a slip. Within those moments, a side she didn't know the brunette had still been capable of having emerges quietly.

There was one time when she was too tired from theatre practice that she basically fell asleep on Beca's comfortable sofa while polishing the furniture—as she'd been ordered to do. She had woke up with a start, panicking at the thought that she had unintentionally stayed all day at the Du Pont's, to find herself wrapped underneath a warm blanket, Beca's blanket. The heir was nowhere to be seen and she figures that the brunette had headed out to her secret spot again. Nevertheless, it was ridiculous how Chloe had to come up with an excuse for spending the day elsewhere.

She would've been in an argument with Tom regarding her _disappearance_ and her lack of decency to tell him that she wouldn't be home until just after sunset if it weren't for the sudden call of his advisers, again.

And yes, they argued about it for the next few days because he seems to be bent on of having her watched over from now on, like a child. She had argued about his lack of trust and he had thrown the _'I'm the Vanderbilt heir. I have a reputation to keep and so do you. I can't have you acting reckless and irresponsible,'_

She had sworn that it would never happen again if only to end the stressful argument because she clearly knew where it would lead. Their future, her role in his ascent and the responsibilities she'd have to carry. She can't deal with all that right now.

Between her and the Du Pont however, that particular incident was never mentioned. She doesn't want to think too much of it either, of what it could actually mean. Besides, Beca had her scrub the corners of the pool the next day—the smug brunette sat by the pool side sipping her cocktail—and the hate meter she has for the Du Pont heir was too high for her to dwell on things.

But still, whenever she thought the worst for her archenemy there were those times when she orders Chloe to cook for two only to give the other half to her. Beca would also leave her brownies, cookies and cupcakes—like puppy treats—whenever she would finish the job because as she says with mirth, _'Take those evil things away. This family can't have too much sugar. It never ends well, for me'_ all the while, glancing warily at her cousins dancing, singing and then screaming like a bunch of hyenas as they run one by one towards the makeshift water slide outside to propel themselves across the lawn and into the pool.

She couldn't also forget about the time she accidentally cut herself while making pasta—because she really should just keep her wandering eyes down to what she is doing and not that black bikini Beca is wearing by the Jacuzzi outside with one of her human _happy hour buddies_ because she still has eyes and _nope, it's not distracting at all_. Anyways, the Du Pont was inside in a second, body now wrapped in a bathrobe, not even a frown marring her features as she stares at the cut on Chloe's finger but for a tiny second there Chloe thought there was. Of course, she gets reprimanded for it along with the words 'clumsy', 'careless' and 'idiot' in one sentence but then as she is forcibly ordered to sit down despite her insistence to continue, she only realize after helplessly watching Beca finish her work that the Du Pont heir had cooked, for both of them.

 _For her_.

Also, she finds out that Beca is way better in cooking than she is.

Shaking her head to dismiss the thoughts, Chloe finally gets up with a heavy sigh to start her morning routine. When she comes out of the bathroom, all fresh and ready to start her day, her phone rings the familiar tune she hears whenever there is an incoming call. Clad in her towel, she takes huge strides back towards her bed to check the identity of the caller. To her surprise it's a Du Pont and it wasn't the one she had been thinking about nor was it the adorable one.

 **Stacie Conrad**

Ah, the source of Aubrey's sleep deprivation. Her cousin has been studying like her life depended on it. And one should take note that Aubrey may have always prioritized her studies even before but this time her dedication was like no other to the point that it's becoming worrisome. Obviously, Stacie's sudden perfect attendance to all her classes is the cause. The leggy Du Pont had decided one miraculous day to take her studies seriously and that had sparked this ridiculous academic competition between her and Chloe's over-achieving cousin. As of last night, Aubrey has had been hell bent on perfecting all her exams, projects, reports, papers and assignments in order to defeat Stacie who has chosen to take a seat anywhere near the Vanderbilt for the sake of seeing Aubrey look like she'd vomit from too much irritation.

"Hey, baby sparkles," Stacie greets in her usual seducing tone because anything Stacie does screams sexy time even though she is saying 'baby sparkles' and Chloe is mildly surprised how natural this whole conversation feels. A month ago she wouldn't have even answered a Du Pont's call, much less receive one.

"Hey, Shawn Bradley," Chloe replies fondly with the nickname she knows Stacie hates. But it seems the long legged Du Pont was in no mood to play the 'Cringey and Insulting Nicknames' game with her today as she breezes past their familiar greeting to get to the point.

"You're coming to Emily's birthday party," Stacie drops and Chloe doesn't exactly know what to reply to that because truthfully, she hasn't decided on that yet.

Her silence just eggs Stacie to continue, "Something changed when you left four days ago which is why you're coming, whether or not you are the reason! She's…" she pauses like she was debating whether to say it or not. "I haven't seen _her_ like this since… since her mother's death anniversary. She's been drinking _more_ than usual," Stacie breathes out and Chloe can already tell the guilt coming from her for releasing this type of information.

"Look, you have to admit that whatever happened that night started with your blueberries and now everything's a mess. Besides, I have to admit, it's getting boring without you around for us to play with," she teases.

"Emily misses you as well, I know she gave you that invitation. And I also happen to know that you and Beca seemed to have _unresolved_ _issues_ from the past which she doesn't want to talk about no matter how hard I nudge," Stacie slowly says and Chloe can tell that she was wearing a smirk at that.

"So you and this broodier-than-usual little otter should talk and end whatever this blueberry fight you two are having to at least lighten this heavy place because, lord have mercy, we _cannot_ take this dark aura surrounding us anymore. The house has just turned into a cemetery slash military camp and if you don't fix this, we'd all be sleeping in coffins soon and you know very well that vampires don't sleep in coffins—no matter how dead those dumb humans portray us to be," Stacie begs and Chloe has never heard her so desperate.

But then there are also things she needs to clear up like, "That's unfortunate but if you haven't heard, your cousin doesn't want to talk to me, she doesn't even want me or _my blueberries_ near her. I'm sorry to break it to you but there's nothing I can do to fix that, especially if it wasn't even my fault," she breathes out, her chest heaving from the memories of being harshly treated for being concerned.

"Well, I'm sorry to break it to you too but we need help in the kitchen for the party later and technically, from what I heard four days ago, Beca hasn't exactly told you to stop being her slave and I may have taken advantage of her drunk state to invite you over and manipulated her to say yes so technically, you've been ordered by your master to come," Stacie finishes a little bit hurriedly and Chloe's brain struggles to keep up.

"B-But I don't—"

"No buts, you're bound by blood to serve, remember? And Emily is expecting you. See you later, ginger. Bye," Stacie says before she abruptly hangs up, leaving Chloe even more confused and conflicted than ever as she stares at her phone.

 _Shit_

She hangs her head low and sighs heavily before glancing over her closet.

She needs another excuse, a really good one, in order to go and maybe a cute little outfit to match the occasion. Of course, a Vanderbilt always has class and aura to be envied. But most importantly, she'd need a lot of courage to even step inside Du Pont territory once more because to be honest, she's not sure if she's ready to face that one person.

 _The person whose heart you broke and crushed mercilessly years ago, Chloe_

* * *

 **7 hours ago**

Beca wasn't home.

Chloe doesn't hide her relief with that information as she moves around the kitchen with the Conrad sisters and Jesse. The twins were outside with some of their buddies from the Niculae bloodline, hanging up the last strings of light bulbs which will glow beautifully underneath the four long tables where they'd be dining in later. The outdoor decorations had already been setup in an elegant but laid back fashion since yesterday and now the only thing left is the people, food and music, which will be provided by Jesse's musician friends who have even travelled from Sweden just to perform tonight.

Back in the kitchen, the birthday celebrant watches as they cook and bake. Emily had wanted to help but none of her cousins were having it, stating that she must be out getting massages with her friends instead of hanging around them. Stella even re-assures her that they wouldn't let Jesse burn anything.

"Hey! My cooking skills are what made my exes fall in love with _moi_ ," he boasts, a hand on his chest with his chin up as he looks over at the girls.

"Oh please," Stacie groans. "We've had enough of your unfortunate quest for love," even Chloe chuckles at that while Jesse goes on to defend himself, even citing movie references about romance.

"You have to admit though. It's a total turn on! Being able to cook for your special someone is a definite bonus, and not just cook, cook. It has to be really delicious cooking," Jesse continues to say before suddenly putting Chloe in the spotlight.

"C'mon, don't you agree, sparkly slave? I mean you're the only one in this room who is in a relationship, so tell us, does Tommy boy work well in the kitchen or not? And putting aside family wars and all, we won't tell anybody. We're very good at keeping secrets. Besides, you already know some of ours,"

The room goes silent, obviously everyone seems to be curious as well. The question stuns Chloe for a second before she answers, eyes still focused down on her work while her hands continue to chop tomatoes. What she's about to say is really no secret.

"We," she starts sounding a little hesitant. "We haven't really had a lot of time together these days since he's been busy with, you know, preparations for his ascent, he'll be turning 21 soon," she swipes her knife across the chopping board to transfer the chopped tomatoes into the bowl. "He hasn't really had the time to do stuff like that. Besides, he prefers dining out to eating at home for our dates so, I can't really say," she simply shrugs. She hadn't really thought about it until now to be honest.

"Why am I not surprised?" Jesse hums. "He does seem like the type to order people around instead of doing it himself," he says before doing his own impression of Chloe's boyfriend, making her shake her head at the excessive strutting and gestures.

What did she even expect?

"Fancy is good but home dates can be really sweet too," Stacie who was the boiling pasta noodles reacts beside her. "Beca, on the other hand, doesn't really care shit about any of those formal business meetings her father is trying to force her in. She believes they all are just trying to kiss ass and all that crap so she doesn't go. Which is probably why she can cook for a few of her closest _pals with benefits_ and damn, that little fucker _can_ cook," Stacie says, nodding her head for emphasis.

"Oh yeah, Beca's cooking is like Christmas, New Year's Eve and the Fourth of July combined," Jesse adds looking far away like he is about to drool right then and there. "And we're talking about her _pal_ , Natasha, right?" he says after he snaps from a short pause.

"Natasha?" Chloe finds herself blurting out before she can stop herself.

"Dark hair, dark eyes, perfect eyebrows, luscious lips, a v _ery_ hot Canadian," Stacie supplies, pausing from her work to give an appreciative nod and a smile that already says a lot about the thoughts going inside the tall brunette's head.

"Don't forget, talented and one of the coolest human beings in the planet," Jesse points out and Chloe stops to look at him in surprise.

"Human?" she asks.

"Yeah, she knows about us too and she's cool with it," Stella answers this time as she moves right between her and Jesse to open the oven.

"See? Cool!" Jesse emphasizes before proceeding. "But that's not all, she's a musician with a really pretty voice to match that gorgeous face and also works as a bartender. And you guessed it right! They met at a bar in Germany and if you know Beca then you'd know that alcohol and music mixed together is like her biggest turn on. I think that's probably one of the main reasons why she is Beca's favourite _pal_ ," Jesse says, making an okay sign with his fingers.

Chloe's eyes fall back down to the counter she is working on to chop herbs, with much force this time. Something stirs wrongly inside her and she can't shake it off. She's suddenly irritated for some reason. That is until Emily breaks in to the ongoing conversation about this Natasha and all her _'cool'_ and _'hot'_ qualities.

"I can ask Beca to cook for us, guys! She won't say no to the birthday girl," the young Du Pont suggests happily, easily earning everyone's approval at the prospect of having to eat anything Beca made. "You have to try Beca's delicious cooking, Chloe. It's the best!" Emily says excitedly.

And maybe she was still stuck at the earlier topic and distracted with how she was murdering the basil leaves that she didn't realize it until she blurted it out. "I know. That balsamic chicken was really, _really_ good,"

The room suddenly goes silent the moment after she says it and when Chloe looks up from her work to wonder why, she finds every pair of eyes looking at her with shock and curiosity.

"She cooked for you? When?" Stacie questions behind her and suddenly Chloe feels like she's in one of those FBI interrogation rooms. Turning around swiftly, she replies promptly. "Last week. I-I kinda got a little… distracted and cut my finger so Beca did the cooking instead. It wasn't really serious, just a really small cut, but she was adamant about it," she explains, confused as to the sudden massive interest over something so small. They've literally been talking about how great Beca's cooking skills were and now they are acting all weird about it. And for a second, Chloe fears that maybe Beca wouldn't want them knowing about that small fact because obviously, she's a Vanderbilt and a Du Pont cooking for one is a huge 'DON'T' in their books but then, thinking about it, the Du Pont heir didn't tell her to keep it a secret either.

"So, you and Beca, huh?" Jesse says with a teasing look and a smirk as he rests his elbows by the counter.

"Me and Beca what?" Chloe asks exasperatedly. She's just gotten even more confused. Nobody seemed to want to answer it as they all stare at her until the younger Conrad speaks up.

"Beca rarely cooks. She does on special occasions for the family, after a lot of begging from everyone, and," Stella pauses. "For _special_ _pals_ like… Natasha," she finally says and Chloe slowly processes her words until everything clicks.

"No! I mean, no, me and Beca we aren't—we didn't, you know, do _that_ ," Chloe frantically shakes her hands dismissively at them. "I have a boyfriend!" she emphasizes but it seems to earn more shocked looks from everyone as the silence extends in an uncomfortable period of time.

"You didn't? Because it seems we probably had the wrong idea of this _master_ and _slave_ deal between the two of you—" Stacie tries to clarify.

"Oh god! Never! No, it's not like that!" she cuts Stacie quickly, her cheeks suddenly going warm at the thought. She hadn't even once thought that Beca would do things to her like that because if she did, she wouldn't be offering the blood contract.

 _But then if it goes down it..._

"No! No, no, no," Chloe suddenly bursts out, mortified as she tries to expel the racy images going on in her head. That was so inappropriate and she shouldn't even be entertaining thoughts like that. Fortunately, her outburst only made the Du Ponts think that she was telling the truth. It was clearly a natural reaction to a Du Pont and a Vanderbilt sharing a bed.

"So, she cooked for you even though you didn't have sex?" Stacie tries to clarify once more, this time in a slower tone and much more bluntly.

"Yes she cooked! And no, we didn't have sex! Ever," Chloe seriously says, even looking at the tall brunette right in the eye to drive her point.

However, things just got even weirder after her absolute denial and blatant objection to the idea. She's already clarified everything and yet she gets this feeling that the air has changed.

It started with Stacie's barely audible, "Oh shit," as if she just realized something followed by Jesse's raised eyebrows as he straightens up and breathes out a, "Wow, that's… wow," but before she could even figure out what it all meant, Stacie was putting her arm around her shoulder—which has never happened before—and slowly dragging her away from the kitchen counter while Jesse immediately takes her spot to surprisingly, finish her work.

"B-But I'm not done preparing those," she tries to say, her feet planting themselves to the floor causing them to stop.

Stacie then turns her head to look at her with… a light smile on her face. Now, it wouldn't have been strange if she weren't smiling at her genuinely like they've been close friends for years.

"Jesse will finish that," she assure her and Chloe glances to see the youngest Swanson give her a reassuring nod and a thumbs up. "You need to relax and have fun with Emily," Stacie says, the teasing tone she always uses on her is gone and Chloe doesn't know what kind of spell everyone is in but it has to stop because it's freaking her out.

"Are you sure? I'm still good to help around and—,"

"Here, I'll have that," Stella interrupts her as she gently takes the kitchen towel in Chloe's hands to replace it with a tall glass of iced tea which she had been making for her cousins minutes ago. And there goes another genuine smile thrown her way.

Chloe stares down at the cup then at Stacie who pats her head fondly. "Relax, have fun, Chloe. We'll take it from here. Just make sure this one looks fabulous and stops stressing over her party later," she says, motioning over at Emily who hops off from one of the stools she was sitting on to tug her by the arm.

At the same time the twins step in, finally finished with their work outside to grab some snacks.

"Oh hey, Cinderella's here! We missed you," Nick greets loudly in an annoying tone.

"It's been boring and gloomy without our sparkling ball of entertainment around. Are you going to do one of those theatrical glittery things today too?" Nate fills up naturally.

For a moment, things seem to be back to normal for a few seconds when Jesse suddenly yells at them from his spot. "Hey, that's enough!"

The twins look at him with annoyance and confusion but that was quick to disappear when Stacie drags them both by the collar of their shirts. "Leave her alone, you evil parrots," she says through gritted teeth as they protest along the way.

Chloe stares at them in disbelief and before she knows it, Emily is pulling her towards the stairs.

"Sorry about those two. Don't mind them," she dismisses with a huge grin plastered on her face.

"Did I say something wrong back there? 'Cause your cousins are kinda' being… weird," Chloe asks in an uncertain tone as Emily lightly chuckles.

"No, of course not," the young Du Pont says with a shake of her head. "Being weird, loud and crazy is just the natural Du Pont vibe. Oh, and Chloe?" Emily says as she pauses in front of her door to look at her.

"I know that both our families don't really have the best of relationships but, you're like a sister to me now and I don't really want you to feel uncomfortable here," she says softly yet the sincerity in her words is evident as she looks at Chloe with those chocolate doe eyes of hers.

"Beca says a lot of harsh things but I swear she really just doesn't mean any harm. She's just been through a lot and finds it hard to trust people. I know it's hard to believe but once you get past that, you'll see how gentle and thoughtful she could be. She's just… misunderstood," the young brunette explains carefully as she fidgets, knowing very well how sensitive this topic is.

Looking at the sweet Du Pont in front of her, she feels a wave of nostalgia hit her. She has seen it before, this scene in front of her, those eyes looking back at her, all of it was very familiar. It felt like her heart was being squeezed in palm of someone's hand.

 _Think about this carefully, Chloe_

"Em," she starts, reaching out to hold the younger female's arm.

 _You might end up destroying this one too_

"Beca and I may never get along completely but I'd be so happy to gain a sister in you," she says with a small smile which is mirrored by the Du Pont but it fades when she says, "Even if I don't think I deserve it," and although it was said quietly it doesn't pass Emily's ears thus, the small frown.

 _Or maybe_

"You actually remind me of my childhood best friend. I loved her so much, sometimes too much," she says with a sad smile, swallowing down the forming lump in her throat. "But that wasn't enough. I lost her along the way. We drifted apart and I can't…" she shakes her head, eyes slowly blurring. "I can't blame anyone but myself for what happened,"

 _This time_

"Why? What happened?" Emily slowly asks, concern etching her features.

 _You can finally right the wrong_

"It doesn't matter. There's no way I can get her back now. No matter how much I lower myself and hold out my hand or attempt to get close to her, I still can't reach her. She deeply hates me for what I did," she sniffs. "But why wouldn't she? I was too scared, too weak to fight for her in a time when she needed me the most," she sputters, only realizing now that her cheeks were wet with tears. "This guilt, it's what I'll have to heavily carry for the rest of my life," she says softly.

 _Mend the broken_

"It's not too late," the young Du Pont says, this time it is her that reaches out to Chloe, placing both hands on her arms. "I may be too young to say this but I do believe that time and love heals all wounds. As long as you're alive, it's not over yet. Don't give up! Also, hugs are the best medicine, you should try that with her," Emily smiles warmly as she opens both her arms and Chloe doesn't hesitate in stepping in them to receive one of the most genuine hugs she's ever received. "See? It makes you feel better," she says and Chloe wholeheartedly agrees.

 _It's a slow journey, yes_

"Thank you, Emily," she mumbles. "Funny thing is, it's usually me who says things like that to comfort people," she jokes with small laugh.

 _But you'll get there eventually_

"That's what sisters are for! And actually," the young Du Pont starts as they release each other from the tight hug to finally enter the room. "Beca taught me all of that," she says as she turns around to step inside, leaving Chloe stunned and frozen in place, her heart beating rapidly at her words.

 _And find that it's all worth it_

* * *

 **3 hours ago**

The party begins.

Chloe steps down the staircase in her soft, lovely peach dress that hugged her figure and ran down to her thighs, she tops a white coloured blazer over it to complete the look. Her auburn hair is styled up in a bun with perfect wavy strands falling on the side of her face. She walks out to the manor's backyard where the event was happening, guests are chatting all around near the pool happily while the live band had already started performing on the small stage up front the tables. There are people already dancing and grabbing drinks. Glancing up above, the twins had made a pretty good job with setting up the lights, the vibrant glow across the garden was setting a romantic vibe.

She was debating on whether to stay where she was or grab a drink and mingle around when pink champagne was presented in front of her. Instinctively, she takes it and is a bit surprised to find that it was Nick who offered it to her. When she looks at it hesitantly, wondering if there is some evil prank behind it, he leans down a bit to speak, "It's clean. No dirty tricks here, Chloe," his lips curve upwards but one look on his face she finds no trace of arrogance or sarcasm. She hasn't even recovered from the shock of it when Nate slides up to her right to offer her a small plate of cookies. It's the ones Stella had been baking earlier. She carefully takes a piece.

"Thanks," she says, a little confused at the sudden kind gestures.

"No problem, Chloe," he says with a grin.

"If you need anything just say it," Nick adds in a somewhat gentle tone and Chloe almost thinks it's all a dream. Before she could even say anything—probably to ask why the sudden kindness—Stacie's voice fills up the place as she stands up on stage next to the band in order to gather everyone's attention. She greets everyone smoothly before finally building up the introduction for the star of the night.

"Our sweetest baby girl, our beloved Emilia Mitchell-Stein," she says, hand outstretched over to the direction where Chloe had came in earlier. Emily walks in with Jesse escorting her, a huge smile on her face as the crowd cheers fondly. By now, Stacie steps down to stand next to Chloe and the twins. Stella joins shortly and is first to hug Emily, both girls swaying and laughing a bit as they did.

Emily looked lovely in her gold sleeveless lace dress that fell perfectly down her knees. It made her stand out easily and Chloe feels so happy for her. The young brunette deserves the world. When Emily reaches her, she gives her a tight hug and Chloe quickly compliments how amazing she looks. When they break apart so she could give the same treatment to the rest of her cousins, it dawns on Chloe that she's standing amongst the Du Ponts in front of all the people present. Somehow, it doesn't feel wrong at all.

Tonight, she finds that she doesn't really care what anybody would think. When Emily takes to stage and starts thanking her family, mentioning all of them including Chloe, instead of fearing the incoming rumours about her presence in the event, she even feels… touched to be mentioned. She even feels proud at the sight of the young brunette wearing her birthday present a beautiful rose necklace pendant with little diamonds embedded on it. She even laughs at all the inside jokes and cheers loudly with the rest of the Du Ponts when Emily performs a surprise song, Jesse accompanies her as he strums on his guitar. All the thoughts of reputation and social standing pushed away from her mind. She was having the most fun night ever and nothing can ruin that, not tonight.

Emily finishes her surprise performance perfectly with everyone cheering loudly and asking for more. She steps down nonetheless, an excited smile on her face before hurrying over to the back of the crowd. When Chloe's eyes follow on the direction she was heading, wondering what has gotten her full attention, she finds the young brunette crashing into the Du Pont heir herself. Beca's arms were wide open expectantly, welcoming the bear hug and taking one step back at the impact. Chloe could even hear the puff of air escaping Beca's lips when the hug happened.

The Du Pont heir was all donned in black, as usual, underneath that dark leather jacket is a black romper, see-through black blouse with small red imprints all over it. She has matched it with black shorts with the same colour and design. Simple but classy.

Emily seems to be commenting about Beca's lousy punctuality and lack of presence in the preparation process with a pout. But instead of explaining herself, the Du Pont heir only smiles softly and points up in the sky. In seconds, fireworks fill up the dark night, something Emily had told Chloe she had secretly wished for as it was, in her words, 'one of my favourite things in the whole wide world!' Fireworks on school grounds however require a long process with the administration before they could finally agree to it. Somehow, Beca made Emily's wish come true and even Chloe was moved by the effort she had to do in order for it to happen.

The young brunette was close to tears at the sight of the huge colourful explosive display but it wasn't until Beca hands her a small box that makes Emily gasp and sob out loud. Inside it, a car key to the latest Tesla model.

"So, what's your excuse for being here?" a familiar voice knocks Chloe out of her moment of bliss, the party is now hyped up with the band playing upbeat music and the champagne overflowing. She felt light and really good until she turns to face her cousin.

"Scott?" she almost chokes out as she stares wide-eyed at him, looking quite dashing in his dark gray fitted dress shirt, sleeves folded up a little below on his elbows and dark pants. His hair wasn't in its usual a messy mop instead, he has it styled cleanly, hair smoothly combed up and swept to the back.

"I..." she begins before deciding to opt for honesty. "Emily's my friend, my close friend," she answers before directing the question back at him.

"Well, what's _your_ excuse?"

He simply shrugs before replying, "I've been invited, obviously," he says before focusing his gaze over towards Emily who was now chatting happily with her friends over at a table. It doesn't take long until hazel orbs catch the sight of forest green. Chloe observes the small smile and that little wave Emily makes towards her cousin.

 _Uh_

"I have to go and greet the celebrant," Scott says distractedly, clearing his throat as he slowly makes his way towards Emily, his feet taking him closer and closer to where the Du Pont now stands, instantly leaving the conversation between her friends, eyes never leaving Scott's.

 _Oh_

It's like being suddenly drenched in cold ice as she witnesses the small interaction which evolves into Scott seemingly inviting Emily for a dance, not minding all of the hushed whispers around them, the song being played now heading down into a slow melody. The realization dawns at her. It's not hard to decipher the meaning behind those shy smiles and lingering looks as they sway gently together. For the first time since the night has started, Chloe remembers the feud between the two families. All the most painful memories of the past pouring down on her.

She feels a tug from somewhere behind the couples dancing. Her eyes instantly spotting Beca across the other side, sipping a glass of alcohol as she watches Emily and Scott with such intensity, her jaw visibly clenching at the sight. Stella hurriedly comes to her side as if she had been summoned. The younger Conrad whispers something to Beca and Chloe focuses in on the conversation.

"Emily invited him," Stella says, visibly nervous.

"Why?" Beca asks coldly.

"We have classes with him together—"

"I know. Why?" Beca cuts in sharply before asking yet again, her words sounding deadly.

"They were paired for the class report," Stella coughs out, hands fidgeting uncomfortably at Beca deep intake of air which is perhaps why Stacie steps in.

"It's Em's birthday, Beca," she reminds in a warning tone, a hand firmly holding on to the Du Pont heir's arm. Beca takes in another a deep breath before exhaling slowly, eyes closing before opening them once more, an empty gaze fixed down the ground. With her silence, her cousins noticeably relax before backing away a bit.

When Beca looks up, her dark blues connect with Chloe's.

She always knew where she'd be. Always. But then, so does she.

It's a deep connection that will forever haunt them for the rest of their lives.

" _Now we'll never be truly apart, Chloe. Forever connected to each other,"_

" _Always and until the end,"_

Beca breaks away as she downs her glass and walks away, disappearing in the crowd.

Chloe is going to have to talk to Scott later. As much as she finds the growing special _something_ between him and Emily beautiful, Chloe knew better now. She knows that there's only one way it's heading.

A tragic end—

A loud explosion resonates and for a minute, Chloe looks up to expect another round of fireworks but she finds nothing but smoke rising from a far. Another deafening boom rings out and this time Chloe feels the ground shake, yelps and shrieks of shock follow.

And then chaos.

Chloe witnesses the flurry of panic happening around her. Somebody from security shouts of a dangerous group taking over the West wing and raiding houses, _killing_ anyone in their path.

Her first instinct was to find the others, to find Scott and Emily. She looks around to find her cousin putting an arm over the young Du Pont as he leads her away from the crowd. Chloe's feet move in an instant, however, a body collides hard against her side, a sharp pain throbbing on her shoulder. She falls down, her head hitting the corner of the table and knocking her out instantly. Everything goes black.

Then silence follows.

When she opens her eyes, vision clearing up as she regains consciousness, that's when she saw it, from underneath the spot where she fell, people in dark ghastly masks holding sharp long silver blades coming in, seemingly looking for something, _or someone_.

One of them stabs a guy right in the chest, in the middle of his heart and Chloe muffles her whimper with the palm of her hands, her whole body shaking uncontrollably as she quickly crawls underneath the table. The masked people continues sweeping the whole place, coldly killing every student they pass by.

Her mind goes into panic with the only thought she has is needing to find an escape route fast but they were closing in quickly and there's just no place she could run to. Her heart stops when the table she was hiding under is knocked down. The next thing she feels are cold hands harshly grabbing her.

Her whole life flashes before her eyes. Each and every regret she's ever had sadly becoming all it ever was going to be, a regret.

She was going to die.

* * *

 **Present time**

She smacks the intruder right at the face as soon as she turns because all be damned but no way is she going down without a fight. However, the intruder was no light opponent either, she would've kicked, punched and slapped as hard as she could but this person was stronger. Vampire, of course. She feels a knuckle land hard on her stomach as she doubles over, coughing while the world around her starts to spin. Those violent hands grabbing her up once more and Chloe's blood runs cold.

The mask of death stares her in the face as a silver sword is poised to end her life, one strike right at the heart, one of the two ways to kill a vampire. Well, at least, it's not beheading. It's way worse to lose a head. But what's more painful is not being able to say goodbye, not being able to see the people whom she cares for one last time, how the thought of her parents getting the dreaded phone call and being unable to tell the things she wished she had told the people her life she had wronged.

 _To tell her once and for all that—_

The blade plunges deep into the skin before pulling out with a sickening sound and time just stops.

The masked intruder slowly lets go of her as he falls down the ground, lifeless. Behind him, Beca stands, a bloody dagger in hand.

"Told ya', you never know," she says monotonously with a light shake of her head before looking behind her, the rest of the masked individuals rushing their way.

Without another word, the Du Pont grabs her wrist and pulls her along as they start running towards the wall. The second she feels the contact, relief washes over her, her mind still trying to keep up with what's happening. Beca collides unto the cement first, hand reaching at the familiar knob that opens the secret door. In seconds they both enter the darkness, Beca's hand automatically finding hers.

 _The nightmares can't follow them here. It's safe here._

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Crazy. It's about to go crazy. What's going on? Well, Bechloe running away while holding hands is what's going on. We're about to charter dangerous and unknown territories now so hold on tight. Chapter 9 is going to be just as crazy, emotionally crazy.**

 **Kasia143: 3 months without pancakes? Man, that sucks. Well, time flies by pretty quickly though. Aww, thank you for all those compliments. It makes me determined to do better. Cool! Yeah I use the one with metal strings because I'm such a masochist-nah just kidding. It's okay, I'm getting used to it. But I'll definitely buy another guitar, one with nylon strings this time so I can play both. They both have their pros and cons so, I'll just have both then.**

 **Yuzu-chi01: Beca's about to get even more badass in the next few chapters. She'll be like the mother of all badass _ness_ or whatever. I have to say, this will be the last time I am writing the horrifying murder of a blueberry cheesecake, at least for this fic. And nope, still not changing my mind about the putting your words on frame and hanging it up on the wall. And nope I don't care what they think haha ;) **

**Parziwolf: Oh yeah I'm with you on going all killing rampage if you throw the cheesecake I got for you-totes unforgivable. This cute hashtag though - #RedOtter. And yes, I am learning guitar (yup, steel strings) and I agree with everything you said. Changing chords while strumming is quite a challenge too. 8 YEARS, WOW! You must be pretty good at it now. Oh boy, I have such a long way to go. I will put extra care on the fingers, don't worry :)))**

 **Yes I am into the ladies TOO and I do believe, someone playing guitar for you is everybody's thing. I mean, c'mon you must not have a heart and soul if it isn't! This thought is really motivating me to study guitar harder haha. Oh and I've only seen the first Twilight movie. I'm more into vampire books actually.**

 **Comiiksde: Thanks! Oh this must mean that we have the same music taste! High five, music buddy!**

 **Thank you to all who followed, favorited and commented on the story. You guys are the best. See you all next week!**


	9. And You Come To Me

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Running.

It has always been one of Chloe's choice work out. May it be first thing in the evening or after she's done with all her classes. Other than being a good stress reliever, it also keeps her body in shape. Most of the time, it's Aubrey who jogs with her. Some days it's Claire. Chloe prefers Aubrey's company though. Claire hates coffee and Chloe's favourite café is a definite pit stop to her early morning runs. Nevertheless, running has always been one of Chloe's strongest points. She's joined marathons and charity races. It's a healthy exercise, it clears her mind, teaches her discipline and it makes her feel good overall.

But running for your life though? Now that's a whole new topic because running is an activity you're supposed to enjoy and feel free to do and not because you're forced into it. Besides, you know this whole running for your life thing is serious when you're heading towards the no trespassing zone of the Winter Forest with your long time archenemy who also happens to be your ex-best friend—which is such a cliché situation to find yourself into when you're about to die.

"Beca, wait!" she breathes out, legs ceasing to a halt while her hand tugs on the brunette's, with their hands clasped together it makes her companion stop as well. This was probably the longest she's ever made physical contact with Beca.

"What now? You left your phone back at home?" Beca sarcastically questions in between laboured breathing as she turns to face her. It's dark but Chloe could clearly see that look of disbelief the other female was sporting right now.

"No, it's," she stops for a moment to close her eyes before opening them once more. "I can't leave. I need to go back. Tom…," she starts but falters as she feels Beca's hand slips away from hers and Chloe instinctively tries to grab hold of it once more. It doesn't happen as the distance between them increases and suddenly she feels cold. But it's too late now.

"I can't leave them. They need me. Tom needs me," she says softly.

She hears Beca sigh before focusing back at her once more, "Are you not aware of the protocol?" she asks and it's not a question Chloe was expecting.

"What protocol?"

Beca lets out another audible sigh. The Du Pont doesn't answer immediately and Chloe feels like she is mentally debating on whether or not she should answer her. Somehow, this 'not knowing' situation makes her feel dumb. What important protocol has she not been told of?

"The heir's safety is first priority, always, especially in threatening situations like this. The school has created an emergency contingency plan to ensure that," Beca finally breathes out. "If I wasn't mistaken, your family chopper has just passed by ten minutes ago," she says before adding in a much softer tone, "Along with the Mori's," and Chloe hates to think of what has become of the other two elite family heirs. Nevertheless, Beca is in front of her right now which then gives her hope that the others may have survived.

However, it dawns on her that if what Beca had said was true then it would mean that Tom had left and whether he was forced to or not, it still hurts that he had left her.

She shakes away the heavy feeling as she mentally berates herself for being selfish. Of course, the heir must be protected at all cost, for the future of the bloodline and for the future of their kind. This was what she had signed up for when she started a romantic relationship with one. It has also occurred to her that she hadn't told Tom about her real whereabouts before all this happened. She had spent an evening celebrating with the Du Ponts, a celebration she has even helped make possible. Now she even feels guilty and ashamed for lying—the one thing she seems to be very good at these days. It's in the Vanderbilt motto to honour their word and yet here she was.

"You can go back if you want," Beca says in that familiar distant tone. "Or you can come along. It's only this or that! Decide fast, decide now. Make up your good damn mind because I don't have time for this, Chloe!" she says sharply and Chloe finds herself looking back at the Du Pont with surprise.

The truth is, Beca's never said her name before. It's been eight years since the brunette had even mentioned it. Absurd but true. It has always been 'Vanderbilt' or 'idiot', the obvious favourite nickname she keeps giving her which is always paired with other insults.

 _Even your name repulses her that she can't even say it_

A tiny crack resounds throughout the whole forest and in a vampire's ears it's loud enough to notice. Chloe lets out a sharp gasp as Beca suddenly takes her by the arm, quickly pulling her to stand behind her. The Du Pont takes out her dagger, her free arm is outstretched in front of Chloe, shielding her. Another small noise breaks from somewhere in the darkness and Chloe instantly grabs on to Beca's free arm, pressing herself closely to the brunette. Fear gripping her whole body as they both stare at the path they had just came from.

 _Something_ was out there.

It had followed them here and it's threatening to destroy their small bubble of safety. It doesn't really occur to Chloe until Beca slowly pushes them both backwards one step at a time that they were right under the willow tree, Beca's tree—or so she claims. Hidden behind the large tree trunk, Beca puts a finger to her lip and Chloe doesn't hesitate on doing what she's told, hoping the loud pumping in her chest won't be heard. Beca moves away from her and almost instantly she grabs on to the Du Pont's jacket in fear, eyes begging her to never leave. The brunette looks at her quickly, a hand prying Chloe's fingers off her.

"Stay here and don't move unless I tell you to. I'll be back," Beca assures her in the softest tone Chloe's ever heard her use. "And if I don't, just run as fast as you can, go straight ahead and never look back," she adds which has Chloe shaking her head and digging her fingers harder into the leather fabric of her jacket.

"Beca, you can't go out there. You're also an elite heir!" she reminds her, voice pleading for the Du Pont to not dive head first in to danger.

The Du Pont stills as she turns to look back at her in the eye, "You're right, I am an heir. I don't hide and cower in fear. I'll fight the fuckers who want to fuck with me and my people," she says with a smirk. "So, stay there while I flush this shit to where it belongs," she adds a wink to that before successfully ripping Chloe's grip on her and stealthily walking off.

It only took seconds until Chloe hears a choking noise erupt from the silence of the forest followed by a sharp cracking sound of neck being snapped. More of those sickening sounds and grunts fill up the whole place as she crouches low, a hand covering her uncontrollable whimpers. With her curiosity getting the best of her, she slowly moves to peek, admittedly becoming worried for the Du Pont.

The scene before her stuns her, her eyes growing wide at the sight, all so clear now that the gray clouds have paved way for the moon to shine down on them.

Blood spatters everywhere as Beca takes those masked men one by one, stabbing flesh, ripping hearts and snapping heads so effortlessly and without hesitation. Bodies that are definitely twice her size dropping down the ground as soon as she finishes them off. But it was obvious that they had advantage in numbers, Beca gets hit on the face and she spits out blood. However, the Du Pont can definitely take a punch as she turns her head back at her attacker, only looking even more pissed at being hit, before landing one of her own. Beca gets another hit and this time it's a cut to the arm. Chloe could hear the pained groan that escapes her lips as she falls down the ground after another blow to the gut. The attacker goes in for the kill making Chloe's heart stop for a beat or two. Before she could even think, her feet are up and sprinting towards Beca's direction. She catches sight of Beca's dagger a few feet away and in a blink she grabs for it before plunging it down with everything she's got against the enemy's back. It goes in and he shouts in pain, the blade missing his heart by an inch. A chill passes through her as the attacker slowly turns to face her. She instinctively takes a step back, swallowing nervously both from fear of being killed and from the guilt of stabbing someone seconds ago.

"Uh I do think we started off at the wrong foot here. I'm sorry?" she squeaks, taking another step back.

But then the distraction was good enough for Beca as she pulls out the blade and jumps on his back while he flails, trying to grab her by the hair. He fails and she raises up her arm, dagger in her hand, before dropping it down hard on to his chest, blade aiming right smack at the center of his heart, a sight that will certainly haunt Chloe even in her dreams. It hits its target and without even a drop of remorse, a sickening twist to the handle finishes him instantly. Both of them fall down the ground and the moment she regains her bearings, Chloe rushes over to Beca's side.

"Are you alright?" she asks worriedly, her eyes scanning every inch of the Du Pont's face for cuts and bruises—she definitely has both of those decorating her flawless face. Beca stands up slowly as she scans the whole area before settling back her focus on Chloe.

"You never listen, do you?" she says instead and irritation quickly flares inside Chloe's chest.

"So you're saying I should've just sat there and watched you die?" she asks incredulously with a frown as she motions over to the tree.

"I wasn't going to die," she defends as she pulls out her dagger from the dead body as easily as plucking a fork out of her steak, making Chloe wince at the motion.

"Oh really? 'Cause a minute ago it seemed like that guy was about to make a kebab out of you!" Chloe points out.

Beca turns around to face her quickly, "No, I was waiting for the exact moment where he goes in so that I can pull out a quick fade and lunge at—," she pauses mid-sentence, taking one huge breathe before exhaling loudly and shaking her head, "Never mind," she grumbles before walking off. Chloe follows her.

She glances back at the bloody scene, more than ten bodies piled and scattered around. It hits her then that Beca had actually killed off all those vampires. All of them, suffering brutal and violent deaths. Nobody just does that out of the blue and walks away from it like nothing happened. It dawns on her then and there that this wasn't the first time Beca had done this before.

Chloe shudders at the thought of Beca having killed someone before all this happened. Being with the Du Pont for almost a week, she wouldn't have thought that she could even be capable of pulling off something this gruesome. Yeah, she looked like it but no, she still wouldn't have thought she'd do all that.

Looking at the Du Pont's back as they walk silently through the forest, only one thought enters her mind. The Beca she knew back then could never even hurt a fly.

 _What really happened to you all these years, Beca?_

She almost bumps against the Du Pont when she realizes that the brunette has stopped walking. She was just about to ask when she follows Beca's line of sight. They were in front of that line, the one that was placed there to warn people. Once they cross it, they are officially entering the unknown shadows of the Winter Forest. All those stories about the horrors lurking deep within it swimming around Chloe's head, bringing no comfort at all.

"Take this," Beca suddenly says as she shoves what seems to be a car remote towards her. "Bugatti. Black. Very fast," she enumerates as Chloe looks at her in confusion. The Du Pont turns around to check the path they've come from before finally facing her.

"If you follow this caution line to the north, you'd circle back to the university gate. My car is parked just outside to the right. You get in it and drive away to the airport, don't ever stop until you get home. There's cash in my car that you can use and a cell phone," she explains hurriedly, her dark orbs avoiding hers as she does so.

"Why are you telling me this? W-What about you?" she asks, having a really bad feeling about this plan. It didn't feel right because if Beca is implying what Chloe assumes she is then it definitely is not a good plan.

"Just go and do as I say!" Beca says, her voice rising as she tries to push her towards the direction she had pointed out but she fights against it, refusing to leave. Every so now and then the brunette glances back at the dark path then at her.

"No! I'm not going without you!" she argues stubbornly.

"Yes you are!" Beca argues back. "They are after the elite heirs! Can't you see what's happening? This is a coup d'état! If they are killing the heirs one by one then it only means that something has happened to the royal council! Which means we are all fucked," she admits, puffing out air in frustration as she paces, a hand running through her locks, a habit of Beca's whenever she was annoyed, panicked or distressed. Chloe has seen that side before. She can also tell that there was more to this and it is sending Beca over the edge, until it finally clicks.

"Your father," she breathes out. "They won't go through all this trouble of murdering every single heir from the five families if your father was still in control," she slowly pieces together and it stops Beca from pacing, her movements going still.

"The leader of the council is a position that is greatly protected which is why they always secretly appoint someone to replace them when the worst happens. This will ensure that the power of the council remains secured," Chloe pauses as she contemplates on the next question she is about to ask before she breaks the silence once more.

"Who did your father appoint, Beca?" she asks, hoping that the answer wouldn't be the one in her head.

 _Because if it were true then…_

She reaches out to the Du Pont, hand going out to her arm as she slowly moves to face her, to look at her in the eye and find the truth.

"It's you," Chloe softly says. "If the council falls, if your father…" she drifts off, not knowing what to say exactly.

"If he dies then it's me who takes his place," Beca finishes for her. "At least, temporarily, until matters settle down. The whole council could give out their votes and I could pass the crown over to that person they chose," she explains as if she is reading it from out of the book, a book she was probably forced to learn since she was be able to read.

"Until then, all of you are supposed to look up to me for answers," Beca finishes with a dry laugh as if the mere thought of it was too unbelievable. She then takes a couple of steps away from her.

"You need to go, more of them are coming this way. They are after me, not you. It's also best if you take your family out of the country and head someplace far, preferably, away from Europe, away from me. Things are about to get ugly and nobody is safe around me," she insists.

But it wasn't enough to make Chloe budge, she would've countered it quickly if she hadn't noticed the dark red liquid staining the palm of her hand. Blood. She had been smelling blood since a while ago but there had been too much of it that all over the place that she hadn't noticed it right away.

"Beca, you're bleeding!"

"And the world is not going to end if I do," she replies with a mocking tone but Chloe wasn't having any of it. She pushes apart the jacket to find a huge gash right above her hip. In seconds, the brunette slaps her hand away and covers the wound with her jacket, hiding it from her.

"Do you want to see your beloved Tom or not?" she angrily throws at her instead as Chloe stares at her, now conflicted. "If you don't get in that car, your chances of ever seeing him and your family again will be slim," she presses on as she continues to slowly back away from her.

"C'mon, don't act like this is the hardest decision you ever have to make. We both know, it's not. Everybody wants to survive. After all, it's always the saintly, righteous idiots who die first. The dumb ones," she mumbles before quietly adding, "You're an idiot but not that kind of idiot," and it's feels like a jab right at her chest. Honestly, how was she to respond to that? This stems way too deep underneath layers of past history between them.

"Just don't get any scratches on my car, Vanderbilt," she takes a few more steps further from her and it sounds like the typical thing Beca would say as a last farewell. Chloe could hear the rustling of leaves from a far. They were coming fast.

"Go! Leave!" she hisses at her before facing out to the unknown, yelling out loud.

"You want me? I'm right here you weak assholes!"

Beca was diverting them her way, each step taking her far away from Chloe and almost crossing dangerously near the edge of the line. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the grand plan. Beca is going to lead them deeper into the forest. It's an even playing field that way. She could either outrun them or strategically finish them one by one. Chloe has always admired the Du Pont's game strategies. She knew Beca had always been so smart even back then. Always top of the class before she left. The library being her special hideout, a quiet place where she can bury herself in books which she says, 'can take you to places you can only dream of going without having to actually leave'

 _Beautiful places that she vowed to take you to._

* * *

 **10 years ago**

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you," Chloe smiles as she finds the Du Pont sitting on the carpeted floor at a quiet corner of Constantine Albert's library. She giggles as the shy brunette jumps in surprise at her voice before looking up at her with those wide deep blue eyes. She stands up immediately but then the quick movement makes her drop the notebook and pen in her hands which have been pressed on her chest along with a big book she had been too preoccupied with to notice Chloe sneaking up on her from behind. Before the brunette picks up her things, Chloe beats her to it, handing it all to her with a bright smile. If the Du Pont had been flustered at the surprise earlier, she seems even more flustered now with the light tinge of pink colouring her cheeks. It's a very adorable sight.

The Du Pont takes her notebook and pen from Chloe, mumbling a soft, 'Thank you,' glancing up at her for a very brief moment before looking down on her feet again.

Chloe hears her clear her throat before she speaks once more, "W-Why were you looking for me? Do you… do you need anything?" she stutters, awkwardly looking around as if she was still unsure that it is her that Chloe is talking to. It's also funny how the Du Pont keeps slowly edging off further from her while Chloe keeps stepping closer.

She finally notices the book the Du Pont was holding and lights up when she recognizes it. "Oh! World map! Do you want to travel someday?" she asks excitedly, moving even closer to the small brunette whose back is now against one of the book cabinets.

She gets a small nod in reply which only makes her smile widen, "Me too!" she says happily before listing off the interesting places she has seen on TV. "We should go travel together!" she suggests excitedly, holding on to the Du Pont's arm as she bounces up and down on her feet giddily.

"What do you say, Becs? Can I call you 'Becs'?" she asks, looking into those deep blue eyes that keep avoiding hers, hiding underneath the curtain of thick wavy dark brown hair.

"S-Sure. That… that would be great. Okay, uhm, bye," Beca mumbles hastily before slipping past Chloe and speed walking out of the library in seconds.

For what seems like the hundredth time she loses the shy brunette yet again but it doesn't dissolve that determination to become friends with her even one bit. At least she got a few words out of her today though. Yesterday, she followed the Du Pont to the bathroom but only got another light blush and a confusing, 'Sunshine' in reply to her, 'Do you like chocolate chip cookies?' The Du Pont looked really embarrassed and panicked after a second and because Chloe didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable she quickly blurts out, 'Midnight!' in a very enthusiastic tone while she points at the brunette.

Her logic? Secret alien language.

She then points to herself and proudly says, 'Sunshine!" then back at the puzzled Du Pont who only blinks as Chloe says, "Midnight!" She does it once more, pointing at herself, "Sky," then back at the brunette with a grin, "Sea," before raising both her arms up in the air and happily yelling, "Rainbow!" with a little bounce to her step.

But then the fun secret alien language connection gets abruptly disconnected when a couple of girls enter the bathroom immediately waving at Chloe and quickly coming over to chat with her. On the other hand, they eye Beca warily as if she had been bothering Chloe. The small brunette then hurriedly leaves without a word, keeping her eyes down the ground while Chloe sadly watches her go.

She does find her again in another quiet spot after class ends. Every kid was playing around the playground or chatting happily on one of the benches like Chloe and her group of friends. However, today she has a friendship to build with a certain small brunette which is why she separates from her group to go looking for the aloof Du Pont.

Now, Chloe is aware of the Du Pont-Vanderbilt silent war but she never really understood it no matter how many times her older cousins would explain how Du Ponts are just unlikable and people who they just won't ever get along with. They always make sure to warn Chloe and her other younger cousins to never come near one. Ever.

Well, Beca wasn't anything like they described Du Ponts to be so, Chloe scours every inch of their huge school to find the brunette. She's always believed that everyone needs a friend and it baffles her that Beca doesn't have any or that nobody wants to befriend the 'quiet girl from France'. She also happens to be the only Du Pont her age as most of her cousins were back in France. It was common knowledge that her father, Darius, is currently taking care of business here which was why his daughter is enrolled at Chloe's school, one of the top and expensive schools in the country.

This time she wasn't in the library and Chloe was close to giving up when she spots a small flash of red hidden behind one of the trees on the school grounds. Red shoes, Beca wore red shoes today! Walking quietly as possible, she nears the tree before peeking from behind to find Beca leaning on it, headphones covering her ears as she bobs her head lightly to the beat while reading on yet another book that seemed to be about Australia.

Leaning lower, Chloe drops to her knees before lightly pressing her ear to Beca's headphones to listen to the music, her chin propped on the brunette's shoulder from behind as she looks down on the book. The reaction from the brunette was exactly the similar to the one earlier, only this time there was a small squeak of surprise.

Beca again fumbles hastily on her stuff, trying to put everything in her bag as she stands up. "So, this is where you hang out every time class ends?" Chloe asks, hopping right beside the brunette who is again, subtly trying to inch further and further away from her.

She gets a nod in response and when Chloe thinks of the benches on the main area and the playground occupied by groups of friends, she realizes that it's probably one of the reasons the Du Pont is out here alone.

And it's very unacceptable for Chloe who couldn't even imagine spending snack and lunch breaks by herself. No, this has to change. Beca needs a friend and Chloe is going to be that friend.

"I-Is there anything you need?" the brunette asks as she always does when Chloe goes to look for her, it's like she's expecting that Chloe needing something from her is the only reason why she keeps following her around. Which definitely is not the reason. She knows where this is coming from though. She's seen those other kids take advantage of the brunette. Harassing her for answers to their assignments, cheating off of her, making her do all the work when it comes to group projects and being nice only when they need something from her. Chloe hates bullies and fake friends the most so she decides then and there that it has to stop.

"Your approval," she answers with a smile before digging in her own bag to offer her favourite cookies. The answer draws out a confused look as Beca stares at the cookies.

"Approval for what?" she slowly asks uncertainly.

"To be your best friend," she simply answers.

"W-Why?" the Du Pont asks as she looks at her in surprise as if it was so strange for someone to want to be friends with her.

"Because I want to be your friend and I want to sit underneath trees to listen to music or read books, or eat. And also, because we're going to travel together in the future! We're going to be travel buddies!" she says without missing a beat. She was just being honest.

Beca looks down at the offered cookies again and, to Chloe's delight, finally reaches to accept them. "But… what about your other friends?" she asks meekly and Chloe just shrugs before plopping down to where Beca was sitting earlier.

"None of them are interested with the Pyramids or the Great Wall of China or even know what a Sakura is! I tell them it is Cherry blossoms and they are very pretty but still they don't know about them! Besides, they always talk about their boy crushes, always. I mean it's okay but that's getting quite annoying," she admits. "They'll be fine without me," she waves off with her hand.

Beca seems to contemplate for a while until finally Chloe feels her stepping closer to sit down next to her. Almost immediately she scoots closer to diminish the gap between them. She feels the brunette stiffen a bit so she hums the song she's heard her listen to a while ago, 'You are my sunshine' by Johnny Cash, a rare song for a nine year old to listen to but nevertheless, Chloe has heard her grandfather sing it to her before. It does the trick though and soon both of them are humming.

"How come they don't know what Cherry blossoms are?" Beca suddenly blurts out making Chloe giggle.

"I know, right?" she says as the brunette opens the pack of cookies for them to share on. "Should we go to Japan first then?" she says raising up her cookie at the thought.

This time Beca's eyes brighten up unlike Chloe has ever seen before and it's a sight she decides she'd like to see all the time. The Du Pont takes out another book inside her bag and this time it's about Japan, opening its pages to show Chloe the colourful pictures of the country's wonderful scenery.

"I'd like that," Beca softly mumbles as they both smile, the space between them now inexistent, arms linked as time passes, cookie crumbs on their skirts as their minds travel to far places together, thoughts filled with cherry blossoms.

 _A world of their own._

* * *

"Party's over here, dimwits!" Beca yells out before dodging underneath the thin warning line, moving backwards as she faces the darkness in front of her. They were coming quick so she starts to jog in the opposite direction, her teeth clenching at the sharp pain she constantly feels in her side from the wound from earlier. She'll have to ignore the pain for now. She's had worse wounds to be honest, this was actually bearable.

The trees were thicker and taller in this part of the forest and it was giving her an advantage. Biting on to the handle of her dagger she starts climbing up one of the trees. On any ordinary day, this task would've been so easy but with the huge cut on her arm and the gash on her side, it wasn't as easy. Pain shoots up from the deep wound making her grunt with each move she makes. Despite that, she makes her way up to a sturdy branch to wait.

At this time, it does occur to her that things could go sideways and this just might be a silent countdown to the moment she finally gets to _fly._ It wasn't a bad _resting_ place either. At least she won't be lying in a coffin to be displayed in front of people forced to attend, many of who would only comment about the lavish preparations and how unfortunate the whole thing is— _Blah. Blah. Blah_ There won't be those cheesy speeches about how _she will be missed_ as if they missed her when she was still breathing. Also, having her cousins running their tears and snot on her coffin is a definite no, no.

It's better this way.

It's better here than there.

Reaching underneath her jacket, she breathes out a sigh of relief to grab on to a small flask. Twisting the cap open, she raises it up to the sky. _One for the road,_ she thinks before drinking all of its contents. The bitter liquid running down her throat, making her close her eyes. When she hears a sound beneath her, she opens them once more, watching from above as her pursuers slowly scan the whole area below.

She quietly stands up, holding her breath as she waits for the perfect opportunity. One of the masked attackers stands directly below her as she mentally braces herself. However, a drop of liquid lands on his neck and Beca realizes that it's her own blood trickling from her arm down to her fingers.

 _Now_

The second he looks up, she's free falling down on to him, dagger straight to the heart as she lands crouched on to the ground. With two swift motions, she slices her blade to the two other attackers standing nearby, going for their legs first. They double over in pain, caught by surprise as she digs her weapon deep in their chests. The others are now aware of her presence as they all charge at her.

"We need her alive!" one of them barks out.

It's another advantage if only they weren't shooting needles that could knock out a vampire cold for a quite some time. She jumps behind the trees, the sounds of bullet speed needles whooshing past her, only a few inches from her skin.

"Shit," she hisses before hitting another attacker with her elbow and grabbing at his arm. She twists her body to the left and with a swift move, flips the enemy over her shoulder to pierce her blade down his chest. Another guy grabs on to her but she easily turns the tables with her now standing behind him. She uses him as a shield from the incoming round of darts being shot at her, all the while stepping back to hide behind another tree. She discards the unconscious person to the side and takes out another one along the way.

But her luck was running out when she gets a punch to her side, right at her wound. It has her stumbling and crawling on the ground, the enemy right behind her. It's funny how many times she finds herself in such situations over the years. She's been in this scenario so many times that it comes second nature to her when she digs her fingers to the dry soil and turns to throw it right across her attacker's face, blinding his eyes. Unfortunately, as soon as she defeats one, there's always another one—or two—popping out of nowhere and this one's quite good. A female, of course.

Her opponent goes for her leg and soon, Beca's wrestling her down the ground. When she gets up on her feet, a brand new pain shoots up from her right ankle. She circles around, limping as she faces the attacker before they charge at each other at the same time with Beca now on the offense. They both land hits against each other, bodies rolling around until they tumble down a slope. They reach what appears to be the edge of a cliff as they gingerly tried to regain their sense of balance. She loses hold of her dagger and now her enemy, who loses her mask from the tumble, takes out a butterfly knife, twirling it around menacingly.

They continue their battle, punches and kicks going back and forth as they fight for the weapon. When Beca spots the small opening, she leaps forward, clasping the butterfly knife with both hands as she aims it right at the eye. The girl, catches her wrist in time, the edge of the blade inches away from her eye.

Beca presses her weight down to add more strength to her arms, almost successful when she gets a knee to her side, the pain doubles and her opponent pushes her feet up at her stomach to throw her backwards but not before Beca manages to slice the blade across her face. The woman screams in pain while Beca's feet slip behind the rocks and she starts falling off the side of the cliff. Thankfully, she grabs on to a stone crevice. She hangs on but her fingers are slipping and in seconds she'll be landing like a raw egg down the cement. And yeah, she'll probably survive that but it'll take weeks to at least regain consciousness which means she'll be on the ground motionless and most probably in a distorted position for weeks, close to death but not quite. It's an easy way for the assholes to retrieve her body too.

 _Nope, not happening._

She tries to use all the strength she has left but the sound of a small crack doesn't bring good news to her situation at all. She starts slipping slowly and in a second, she closes her eyes.

This is it. _Au revoir_

The rock gives way and in a heart-stopping moment she falls.

Or not.

Hands grab on to her arm, keeping her from falling. She looks up to see bright blue eyes looking back at her and auburn hair dangling. It shocks her whole system but she recovers easily, fumbling for a word to say until she pulls out one.

"Idiot," she mutters, earning an angry look.

"Well, this 'idiot' is saving your life! So, shut up and at least pretend like you're grateful for once!" Chloe demands as she lifts her back up.

But no sooner had she started helping her up, the crazy bitch from earlier comes up from behind, face filled with blood as she puts her arm around Chloe's neck in an attempt to choke her. The surprised Vanderbilt visibly struggles as Beca sees the arm around her neck start to tighten, Chloe's other hand coming up to pry at the arm leaving only one hand holding on to Beca's.

There was only one way out of this.

"Let go," Beca suddenly says, looking straight up on to those sky blue eyes.

"No," Chloe manages to say. Of course, the stubborn brat chooses to be a dumb idiot even after Beca had told her she was not. She gave her the perfect opportunity to stay safe with her family yet here she is.

"Let go of me, Chloe!" she yells and she hates how desperate she was starting to sound.

"No!" the redhead screams back.

So, Beca decides to force it instead, loosening her grip on the Vanderbilt's wrist. Yet as she does, Chloe grips on to her wrist tighter. "I'm… never letting you go," Chloe coughs out. She was losing air but Chloe was a fighter, she always was, even Beca knows that. When she believes in something she'd go for it, with so much passion that sometimes it's already ridiculous how passionate she was getting.

 _This stupid passionate idiot_

"Look at me!" Beca shouts up at her, meeting those bright blue orbs instantly.

 _Well, fuck this_

"Cotton Candy! Rocket! Then quack right!" she says.

And to anyone hearing this, it sounds gibberish and would gain frowns or looks that says, 'this bitch must've gone mad' but if you speak and understand _alien_ however, you'd get exactly what it means. Chloe was fluent in alien language and Beca hopes that after all these years she still is.

Chloe relaxes for a second. The hand stopping the intruder's arm from choking her moves to grab Beca's hand. Now using both hands, she spurts out a sudden burst of energy, pulling her up before quickly moving her head slightly to the right as much as she can. But that slight move is all Beca needs for her free fist to connect to the woman's bloody face hard, twice. The woman's hold goes weak instantly, her face contorting into extreme pain.

This time, Beca has grabbed hold of a much sturdier crevice, punches continuously coming at the enemy until she finally releases Chloe who coughs, gasping for air.

Beca's dangling feet also find something to step on as she uses all her strength to climb up. She scrambles to the edge just as the woman was up on her feet to finish what she has started. She would've been shoved back down the cliff if it weren't for the Vanderbilt grabbing on to one of the woman's legs. The attacker kicks her off harshly but that gave Beca enough time to charge at her. They are both down on the ground, wrestling and rolling around.

In a moment, the woman finally gets the upper hand, taking advantage of Beca's wound. She continues smacking on her face while Beca raises up her hands to the side of her head in order shield herself. She's been trained that if she had found herself in such position that there's always going to be an opening. Experience tells her that it always works. She only has to wait for it. The punches are slowing down and that's when she finds it.

Only, the woman stills so suddenly, the life leaving her eyes before she falls down the ground, lifeless. Behind her, Chloe stands eyes wide, bloody hands shaking, those same hands that stabbed the woman from behind. This time, the Vanderbilt didn't miss. A butterfly knife stuck deep in the heart from behind.

 _No_

"Vanderbilt," she calls out yet she remains frozen, standing in shock. "Hey," she tries again, this time carefully standing up and taking the redhead's hand. They were filled with blood, someone else's blood. It reminds Beca of a time when she once did the same thing, though it was under different circumstances, it all still weighs the same.

"Chloe," she says louder, this time reaching out to hold her face, her fingers underneath her jaw, making the Vanderbilt look at her. The moment she finds her eyes, tears start to fall.

"Beca… I didn't—I just… had to. She was… going to," Chloe shakily says, her voice soft and scared as she pauses, a whimper leaving her quivering lips.

"Stop," she says firmly, looking down at the Vanderbilt's hands as she wipes the blood stains off of it with her jacket. "It wasn't your fault. I made you do it. I didn't give you a choice. _I_ killed her," she insists. She knows it doesn't really help but what else can she do?

 _There's one other way but this isn't ten years ago_

"But still… I stabbed her. I killed," Chloe says in that same vulnerable tone and Beca was quick to cut her off.

 _Maybe… tonight's okay. One more exemption wouldn't hurt much, right?_

Without another word, her mind shuts off as she pulls Chloe close to her, wrapping her in her arms as the Vanderbilt lets out a sob, clinging to her tightly. A wave of unexplainable emotions fills every inch of Beca's system. The warning lights go off, just like before, when Chloe hugs her back tighter, head burying at the crook of Beca's neck. This time she ignores it.

 _Just for tonight_

"She was… she was going to kill you. I had to do it. I had to," Chloe says again and again, sobbing hard against the skin of her neck.

 _They can just forget this ever happened afterwards_

She brings a hand at the back of Chloe's head, tenderly caressing it and resting her own head against it. She closes her eyes before gently humming a song that had always calmed her down, the same song she always listened to whenever she was sad, uncomfortable, scared or whenever she was in so much pain. That same song she once shared to a bubbly girl who kept following her everywhere until they sat underneath a tree at the backyard of Constantine Albert ten years ago.

That cute little girl, who gave her chocolate chip cookies, taught her alien language, smiled a smile that once brought back the colour in her life and gave a new beat in her heart, _her beloved sunshine._

* * *

 **A/N:**

For this week's chapter, a little peek ten years ago to our adorable elite babies. Actually, I almost couldn't update because I was so busy but god do I just love you guys too much. I know what waiting feels like too-ehem-to all the authors whose fanfics I am following please update-ehem-anyways, Bechloe's journey to the very mysterious Winter Forest-and also memories from ten years ago-begins. We are unraveling what really happened back then bit by bit. In short, we are reaching the part where it gets so much _fun_!

 **kimmania:** And thanks for reading and following this story!

 **Parziwolf:** There's an actual upcoming more detailed scenario looking back to that badass otter placing a blanket over the sleepy red panda. That's something to look forward to I guess. Also, the mystery of Bechloe having some sort of deep sixth sense sort of connection to each other is something to look forward to as well. I'd like to keep you guys on the edge of your seats so that you'd all keep reading to this little fic of mine :)

Oh yes fingerpicking is definitely something I want to be good at. So I'm going to go get my guitar and practice... for science. haha.

 **llvr:** Your take on Bechloe's view towards Scott and Emily's relationship is exactly what I had in mind when I wrote it. Yes, Scott and Emily are somehow mirroring what Beca and Chloe had in the past and it sort of scares them (Beca and Chloe) mainly because obviously things hadn't worked out well between them. And if I hadn't wrote it clearly, Scott is pretty close to Chloe (as she is the only one he actually talks to at home) like Beca is to Emily so it makes the situation even more of a big deal. We are getting close to the truth and hopefully, I get to write it as good as I imagine it to be. In regards to what the other Du Ponts now think of Chloe's significance to Beca, I might touch on that in the future chapters.

As for how I've written the characters, I was aiming for a more realistic approach which is, having at least two sides to a character. Beca despite being this rude, uncaring, cold and sometimes manipulative bitch has actually a softer side while Chloe who everyone thinks is like so perfect, bright, lovable and extremely nice has actually a dark side to her which results to having nightmares of the wrongs she has secretly done in the past (because she's actually more capable of committing mistakes). Basically, I want to point out that everything has a reason and you're right, Beca and Chloe are simply human beings (despite having fangs, supernatural abilities and a craving for blood during breakfast) that have naturally complex and unique characters and personalities. And I'm happy that you think I wrote it in a way that doesn't seem forced or weirdly unbelievable. So, thanks! I look forward to more of your insight or review in the next chapters.

 **Comiiksde:** Actually I was waiting for someone to mention Staubrey because (not only am I a Staubrey shipper but) I've already been subtly writing their little interactions since the beginning. Finally, somebody noticed!

 **Sa0621:** Aww true love vibes right there. And I like it. Haha. So many interesting plot twist suggestions which I will maybe take into consideration~ Nothing is too extreme for us writers. All of these are good plot twists.

 **Yuzu-chi01:** Uhm something Beca can't do? Well, probably sharing and being open with her feelings? Yes Staubrey is creeping up from behind. Staubrey is already alive (subtly) since the beginning actually. For future references, know that when I put Aubrey and Stacie in one sentence it's not just coincidence. Ha! I like that, Beca clearly doesn't have a choice (not when I'm writing this fic). Yes, no more blueberry fights unless... it's sexy blueberry fights ;)

Okay, I'll try to lock my door~ _Try~_

 **Kasia143:** Ouch, that's definitely what pain feels like. **BTW! You're theory, my friend, is my favorite theory!** I laughed so hard reading it. A European princess that Beca has screwed with! Now, why didn't I think of that! That would have been way better... :(

 **Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited and put in their comments/reviews. I love and appreciate them all. See ya next week, ya lovely little humans!**


	10. On A Summer Breeze

**Chapter 10**

* * *

Winter Forest.

Guess some of the rumours were actually true.

It really wasn't called Winter Forest for nothing. The climate in this forest was always chilly and as Beca looks up, light snow falls down gently from above. It wasn't even winter season yet. However, in spite of the much negative rumours surrounding it, it looked beautiful for such a place people deemed one should not enter. It had always been this terrifying, mythical place that has been the center of every Victor Barden student's horror stories, especially amongst the freshmen. The highlight of these stories naturally heighten every Halloween, Beca's favourite holiday. And it's not because vampires are among ones of the most celebrated 'fantasy' creatures around the world in this special season but because she doesn't have to clean herself up after drinking someone's blood, hide her fangs or her blood red irises. Plus, it's basically a time of gloominess. Oh how she loves to soak in all that dark gloomy gooey mess. It's also a time when everything that screams horrible and wrong is basically considered okay—at least for her.

Unconsciously, a tune starts playing in her head. A relaxing piano piece, slowly drifting in the background.

A year ago, she spent Halloween in Austria, sitting in a fancy hotel bar while she lazily swirls her alcohol. With her hair styled for the night, her sexy little black dress hugging her form and that look in her eyes that makes people want to throw themselves at her, she was bound to be offered drinks and some intimate company. But she was having none of that. She already knows who she wants to be up close and personal with tonight.

She glances subtly behind the bartender where a long glass mirror stretches across both ends of the bar. Red hair, dark brown eyes in an elegant velvet dress, talking seductively to a gentleman in a black suit. She notes the security surrounding the booth they were in. Twirling her ring around her ring finger, Beca counts two men near the exit, one sitting by the bar—and it's pretty obvious because his scotch has been untouched for like an hour now, and finally two other men beside the booth they were seated in. Amateurs. She sighs, this night is turning to be a bore.

She can't wait for the _fun_ to start.

The _fun_ starts twenty minutes later. Soon, she's up in her feet, her glass now empty as she checks herself in the mirror one last time, dark eyeliner, dark eye shadow and dark red lipstick, perfect for the night of the dead. The seductress is already on her way out the door, a silver suitcase in hand while her security file out one by one. Beca follows them, adjusting her coat as she does.

She takes the other elevator but as the doors open at the fifth floor to let three guys in, Beca starts to stretch her neck left and right. The first two were the same guys at the booth next to the target, the third guy was the one sitting by the bar. Well, unlike the last five days, she wasn't really playing subtle this time. She'd been waiting for them all night.

The door starts to close and the second it does, gunshots, cracking of bones, groans and screams of pain are heard. The clean-up crew are certainly going to have a busy night tonight. The bell rings and the doors open to the 31st floor. This time Beca stands in the middle of unconscious bodies which she steps over as she walks out of the elevator. _Humans, how pathetic_.

Taking out her wireless earphones from her coat pocket, she drowns herself in the music. Tonight's sound choice, 'Under Pressure' by Queen and David Bowie, because why not? _Fun song._

As soon as she steps out into the hallway, the rest of the security was poised and waiting for her. The sight makes her stop midway and sigh for the second time. _Time to work._

And work she does, her high heels clacking on the floor as she leaves a trail of dead bodies and broken property swinging behind her. The clean-up crew is certainly going to hate her even more for this but she can't do anything about that anymore, she just can't help it. She _plays_ messily.

When she reaches the door number she's had memorized, she knocks twice before speaking out the infamous greeting that can only be used in this particular night.

"Trick or treat,"

A minute passes as silence ensues and the door remains locked so, she nods in understanding. "Trick it is then," she mumbles before taking out a small French dagger, and breaking down the door to enter.

"Valerie Petrovic," she starts. "You've been doing some pretty bad deals lately with bad humans. You also happen to murder about…" she pauses to grab a piece of paper from her pocket. "Thirty-two humans for the past five years," she continues.

"Which makes you a threat, according to the people upstairs, so, will you please just come out that I may rip your heart," she asks before exhaling heavily.

"You're pretty," a low seductive voice echoes as the red headed female walks out her room, a glass of wine in her hand. "Young but already as skilled as a seasoned assassin in the business," she simply says, looking over at her up and down appreciatively.

"What's your story, honey?" Valerie asks as she sits gracefully on one of the cushioned chairs, crossing her legs and watching Beca amusedly. She remains silent though, only arching up an eyebrow in reply.

"Let me guess, orphan? But then your posture is perfect, your skin so soft and you have good taste in food and alcohol. No orphaned teen would have been brought up with such sophistication. Yes, I've noticed you since two days ago, if you haven't realized," she points out and Beca replies by changing the song she was listening to 'Killer Queen' by Queen.

She hates this part the most. They're always chatty before they die. But then, she does have a lot of time in her hands and there's really nothing else to do before travelling back to Victor Barden to complete her freshman year. _Bummer_.

"Hmm, you look very familiar though," she muses. "Your eyes" she then smiles, fangs showing, as she finally figures it out. "You have Darius' eyes,"

She then takes a sip of her wine before standing up, finally putting down the glass on to a table, "What a pleasure this is to be in the presence of the daughter of the most respected vampire in the world. I'm surprised that he sent his only daughter, his direct heir, of all people to do the dirty work," she shakes her head, laughing lightly before she takes a step closer. The movement finally makes Beca's eyes flicker up her way.

Another song switch and this time, it's an original club mix entitled 'number 33', her own creation.

"You got everything right except two things," Beca finally speaks. "I wasn't _just_ sent here. He put me in a box, shipped me here and dumped me like a cat in front of this hotel because I am being punished for driving a car into a restaurant which really isn't my fault. Some cheating asshole thought he could win the race by trying to sabotage my ride. Said cheating asshole is currently in a coma which _again_ isn't my fault," she exhales, shaking her head at the thought. "He was a crappy driver and he pissed me off,"

Valerie looks at her with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, "And what's the second one?" she asks, making Beca smirk.

"I've been following you for a week. I'm not just _as_ _skilled_ _as a seasoned assassin_. I'm the best in the business, a business I've been in for six years now, sweetheart,"

With that she closes the door behind her and does what she was _thrown_ here to do.

Finish the job.

Twenty minutes later, she slips out the room, wiping off the blood stains in the blade of her dagger. She walks back to the elevator to press the 'down' button, eyeing her reflection on a display mirror just across its doors. A small cut on her lower lip, blood dripping from the side of her face down to her neck, a bruise forming underneath her left eye and bloody knuckles. Even her clothes were stained with blood, not that anybody would notice easily because of the black colour.

The bell sounds the arrival of the elevator and just before it opens, she closes her eyes before opening them, her irises now deep red. Inside it, a mother with her two kids who were all dressed up in their Halloween costumes. The little girl was dressed as a witch while the little boy, who looked up at her excitedly, was dressed up as a vampire, his fake fangs showing.

"Are you also a vampire?" the little one asks excitedly as she steps in.

"Yup," she answers, smiling to show her fangs before looking up at the mother who eyes her suspiciously, probably thinking she was some high class call girl who has a client with a very specific kink.

"You are Dracula too!" the little boy says, pulling her attention back down at him.

"Uhm, no, I'm not," she answers back with a slight shake of the head. "I'm Carmilla," she clarifies, a small smile forming in her lips when the little boy goes to ask who that is.

"She is the vampire that inspired Dracula. She's way, way cooler," she explains as the boy nods before turning to his mother and says. "I want to be Carmilla next Halloween," while his sister chimes in, "Me too!"

They reach the ground floor as Beca walks straight out the elevator but stops when she hears a happy, "Bye, Carmilla!"

She gives out a small wave before continuing on towards the exit. As soon as she steps outside she notices snow slowly beginning to fall down from the sky and into her outstretched palm. She looks up to watch the sky filled with what looks like white cotton bathing everyone. When she pulls her focus back down she sees a black limousine in front, its door opened for her. There were two black SUVs parked on the front and rear end, the Du Pont symbol carved in all the cars. Her father's men, pile out for the typical security measures— _also to ensure that she doesn't run off to Portugal to dance Fandango with some chica_ —before greeting her with a light bow. Waving them off, she enters without a word.

"To the airport, Miss Mitchell?" her driver asks as she rests her head back the cushions, humming in response, like she has any other choice.

She switches to the next song for the third time, 'Easy' by the Commodores, as she looks out the window, wishing that—

 _Wake up_

 _Wake up._

 _Wake up, Beca._

"Beca!" a voice snaps her out of the year old memory as she holds on to a tree for support, her world starting to spin a bit as she finds herself back in the middle of the forest instead of Austria. A worried pair of sky blue eyes immediately come in her line of sight.

"I'm fine," she dismisses, pushing forward and away from those warm hands that are trying to hold her steady.

"You don't look fine," Chloe says. "Maybe we should stop—"

"No, we can't. More are coming. The further we go, the better our chances," she argues. She hears the Vanderbilt seemingly rubbing her own arms and she's currently aware of the decreasing temperature, the earth slowly being covered with snow.

She's been through worse. This isn't worse. If she made it out of Russia, she'll make it out here. She just has to keep moving, keep her eyes open and keep her focus steady.

 _Keep avoiding getting sucked into those baby blue eyes and warm arms._

"Shit," she hisses under her breath.

So, here's the problem, there's this thing that always happens when her body starts to weaken or collapse. She starts getting delirious and memories of the past start piling down on her like hollow blocks falling on top of her and crushing her to death. It's like losing control and falling into a pit of memories, memories she had shoved down into said pit, a dark, damp, very horrible memory pit.

"I don't hear anything or anyone following us right now. You really should rest, maybe even just sit down for a couple of minutes," Chloe resumes and there goes that warm touch on her arm again. She quickly moves away from it like it burns.

"I said I'm fine!" she snaps and it easily silences the redhead. She doesn't stop to even look at the Vanderbilt, afraid that the look on her face might evoke feelings Beca is not ready to deal with.

They continue walking for a couple of minutes and she internally sighs in relief having put enough distance between them. _Preferably, eight years worth of distance_.

But of course it doesn't last long. The world starts turning again, her vision blurring. She feels warm arms catching her. A familiar sweet scent of flowers fills her lungs while she hears a soft voice calling to her in a distance. There was music increasing in volume the more her world dissipates into a blur, playing a French song that she had last listened to eleven years ago, 'La Vie En Rose' by Édith Piaf, and if she were to base it from the music playing, it's obvious which memory is coming next.

 _No, please don't. Not that memory. Please don't—_

* * *

 **11 years ago**

Soft music plays in the background of Beca's family mansion, their temporary home while her father conducts business in America. When she walks to the source of the sound, Beca looks up to find her mother next to the record player. She smiles warmly down at her the second she notices her standing from behind. Without missing a beat, her mother, Robbyn, takes her hand and twirls her around to the slow music. They waltz around the room to the lovely French song as Beca grins happily, giggling at every twist and turn. She gazes up in amazement when her mother does a perfect spin with such grace and gentleness. It had her hoping that when she grows up she'd be able to dance as gracefully as her mother.

When Robbyn completes one turn she gasps as Beca's father, dressed handsomely in a formal black suit to match her mother's red gown, catches her in perfect timing. Her smile widens as she watches her parents dancing, their eyes lovingly gazing into each other while their lips break into smiles.

"Mr. and Mrs. Du Pont," a voice breaks their little moment and Beca sees her father straighten up to look at his assistant, James. "I'm sorry to intrude but I'm afraid it's time. The car is ready," he explains in such a formal tone before lowering his head to bow.

Robbyn smiles and assures it's alright before facing her husband to smoothen his suit. When that's done, Beca's father starts to walk but pauses in front of her, giving her a small loving pat on top of her head and a caress to her cheek. "We will be meeting with other elite families and other envoys from other countries to strengthen relations and talk politics. When the time comes, it'll be your turn, my little rose," he says before Beca's mother comes to his side, smiling as she shakes her head.

"Your daughter is only eight years old, Darius. It's too early to teach her politics," she scolds lightly. "Besides, Beca can choose to become whatever she wants to be when she grows up," she says with a warm smile, bending down to fix the red ribbon tied to her hair and brush her bangs to the side.

"Yes, I know, my love, but Rebecca is my heir. She's destined for great, great things," he says proudly before leaning down a bit. "She'll be no princess. She'll be a queen, a strong and smart queen. Am I right, my little rose?" he smiles as he holds her face with his hand while she nods her head enthusiastically.

"Oh that part, I can agree with, heir or not, our Beca is a queen," Robbyn says before swatting Darius' hand away when he again begins to measure the size of Beca's head for what seems to be a crown.

"It's better to prepare for the future," he defends with a light chuckle, his hands formed in a shape of circle when he turns away from his wife, as if putting to memory the exact measurement.

"Come, we'll be late," Beca's mother says, taking her hand as she eyes her father sharply. Darius quickly lowers his hands and clears his throat, immediately agreeing with his wife.

The travel only takes about five minutes, much to Beca's dismay. She always loved travelling, going places to see the colourful sights. When they get out of the car, she looks up at another huge mansion. It's almost as big as their own here, in Maryland, but smaller than their home in Neuilly-sur-Seine. She hops up happily on the steps in between her parents, who were both holding her hands as she does, leading up to the door where they are greeted by the servants.

They've reached another set of stairs but this time instead of cement, it's made of marble and a beautiful lady with red hair greets them.

"Alessandra," her mother says fondly as she and Alessandra brush cheeks. Her father opts for a handshake and there's a little bit of tension between the two for some reason Beca has yet to understand.

"Darius," a man with blonde hair comes, standing next to Alessandra before offering a handshake to both her parents.

"Markus," her father greets back and compared to Alessandra, the tension leaps up a few notches between both men. It only breaks when Robbyn's voice comes through.

"Oh and is this the lovely birthday celebrant?" she asks, her eyes brightening up as Beca finally notices the little girl right next to Alessandra. She also has the same red hair and the brightest bluest eyes Beca has ever seen.

"Yes, she is, our little princess, Chloe," Alessandra proudly says as she brings the little girl in front where Beca can see her even better.

"Happy Birthday, Chloe!" Robbyn greets while Beca's father hands out the gift, Beca had helped wrap up this morning.

She had kept asking who it was for and why there is a gift to be given when it's not even Christmas. Her mother explained that it was for another little girl's birthday, a little girl she was positive will become Beca's friend. And if there is one thing Beca would love to have in this world it's a friend. Being an only child can be lonely sometimes which is why she was so excited to meet this 'friend'. Sadly, even though she kept begging, her mother says that she cannot take this 'friend' home with her.

Tonight, being in front of another child her age, Beca's excitement turns into nervousness as she hides behind her mother, peeking every now and then. She may have wanted a new friend for so long but to be faced with one now, she doesn't exactly know what to do or how to talk.

"This is my daughter, Rebecca, you can call her Beca. She's the same age as Chloe,"

At the mention of her name, Beca takes another peek only this time, she is greeted with big baby blue eyes staring back at her with a smile and a very energetic, "Hello, Beca!" Surprised at the close proximity, Beca quickly hides behind her mother in embarrassment.

She hears her mother's laugh and wonders why. "I'm sorry, Beca's a very shy child. She has always been in the presence of people way older than she is. Her cousins are actually the only friends she's ever had. It's funny how she can face diplomats confidently and then hide in the presence of a girl her age," her mother says with a sigh.

"Oh, I'm sure she'll get used to it now that you'll be having trips here frequently. Chloe, on the other hand, is such a friendly child. She befriends anything that breathes, and maybe the ones that don't as well," Alessandra comments with a laugh.

The adults continue to make small chat with each other before they all head to the main room where the event was being held. Beca and her parents were naturally introduced to everyone in a grand manner, immediately the center of attention. Such reception is already a familiar thing in the Mitchell-Du Pont household and Beca is used to it, watching her father being given respect and bowed down by everyone around the room. Her mother always says that her father holds the highest position in the community. Usually, she'd walk as she was taught, head held up, shoulders straight, hand in both sides and eyes straight ahead. But then, tonight was different as her deep ocean blues keep wandering towards a certain redhead.

Maybe she hasn't realized yet that time just how mesmerized she was with Markus and Alessandra's princess but perhaps, it was already telling that at that exact moment Chloe was going to be someone very special in her life.

She wished to play with Chloe, to talk to her about all the amazing things her mother reads to her every night and maybe invite her to their house. Which is probably why she spent the whole night peeking from behind chairs and tables, quietly watching wherever the little redhead went, following her with her eyes. However, every time she is caught looking—Chloe smiling at her every time it happens—she runs to her mother and hides bashfully.

Maybe it would've been easier if Chloe wasn't surrounded by her cousins all the time, cousins who would all look at her whenever Chloe does. So, the only thing Beca resorts to is to follow her quietly everywhere and occasionally run back to her mother when caught.

She never gets to talk to Chloe that night.

Beca starts to follow her parents out the door feeling sad at this fact, feet dragging heavily on the floor. But then as she looks at the window of their car she catches red hair outside the Beale residence in the corner of her eye. When she sees those bright blues she's been following all night, she perks up once more. Chloe waves at her and shyly, she waves back. She smiles to herself all the way home.

That was first time she's ever met Chloe Sofia Beale, a Vanderbilt.

She doesn't forget about that night. A night that evolves into a few more unforgettable nights as their paths start to cross regularly. Every occasion and event her family attended was always a sure way to meet Chloe again. But not once did they ever get to talk as she doesn't get rid of her tendency to run and hide whenever facing the little redhead.

But then the universe already has plans for both of them, aligning their stars in order for them to head to that one path they will finally walk together. Unfortunately, the methods of the universe can also be cruel. Beca finds that it destroys so it can create that very road she was destined to walk through.

Beca's mother dies.

As Robbyn's soul fades so does the love in her father's heart and with that, Beca's world starts to lose colour for the first time.

Her death was no accident nor was it of natural causes either. Robbyn was murdered in an attempt to assassinate Darius Du Pont. Beca had unfortunately been there that night, carried in her father's arms as he fiercely protects all that he has left.

The funeral service was long and attended by so many people from different parts of the globe, people she barely recognizes. So, she ends up hiding in the garden her mother always tended to. Dressed in a black dress, she sits on the swing underneath a tree, staring down on her feet. Her mother used to read to her underneath this very tree. Now nobody will and Beca's vision starts to blur at the thought.

She hears a sound and when she looks up with watery eyes, she finds Chloe standing a few feet away from her. The little redhead takes a few tentative steps towards her while Beca tries to stop her tears from falling. She doesn't hide it this time.

She thought of it at the last second though.

But when Chloe slowly reaches in her pocket to offer her a lollipop, she doesn't run. She accepts it timidly, a lone tear finally rolling down her cheek. As she stares longer at the candy in her hand, she begins to sob, tears now pouring down freely. The little Vanderbilt touches the top of her head softly, in a manner that Beca would've to a baby rabbit or a puppy and it makes her cry even harder. She hears a small sniff and when she looks up, she finds the redhead in tears as well.

"Don't cry," Beca mumbles in between sobs while Chloe wipes her own tears with the back of her hand.

"I'll stop crying if you stop crying," the sobbing redhead answers back.

Beca tries to stop crying. She tried really hard and somehow it was getting funny. It's funny and sad at the same time. The more she tries to stop it the harder the tears keep coming. So they just kept crying while Chloe just kept patting her softly on the head.

It wasn't until Beca's aunt Katherine comes looking for her—perhaps surprised at the scene of two crying little girls—that they both finally stop, sobs decreasing into small sniffs. Chloe stood quietly behind her all throughout the whole process.

The funeral service comes to an end. Beca's father remains passive all throughout, refusing to even eat or get some rest while he stands next to Robbyn's casket, even long after it was sealed in the Du Pont family crypt. Even until this moment, not once had he even looked at his daughter. The daughter that bore so much resemblance to his deceased wife that seeing her only brings him unimaginable pain. It was only her aunt Katherine, Robbyn's younger sister, and her husband Ivan that held her close, taking care of her all night.

As the sun rises without her mother to hold her to sleep, Beca's tears start to fall once more. But when she digs into her pockets to find a small lollipop, she clutches it tight, finding a new source of comfort in it.

But then again the universe destroys to create a new path which she is destined to walk through. It may have taken away something Beca holds dear in order to replace it with something just as precious. And it came in the form of sky blue eyes, curly auburn hair and a huge toothy grin.

It was only after a year that Beca finds out that maybe the universe intentionally gave her Chloe Beale as some sort of apology and maybe perhaps, in order for her world to bathe in colour once more.

She also finds out that quiet and awkward little kids don't exactly survive well in school, especially if it's your first time in this kind of educational setting. Beca was nine years old when she first experiences bullying. Being home schooled since she was six and basically, a foreigner with a French accent in her English, she finds adjusting hard. It was overwhelming and all Beca wanted was to go back home, back to France with her cousins.

The kids laugh at her when she tries to speak in front of class, they make a joke about her accent, how lousily done the ribbon on her hair tie was, how she keeps tripping at the playground, how bad she was at games, her height and how weak her body strength was.

But then every time the kids roll over in laughter while pointing fingers at her only one pair of eyes looks at her differently. Chloe doesn't laugh, not even once. She even yelled at the bullies for her and Beca learns that nobody dares to go against the most popular girl in class.

She was like an angel and Beca always stupidly looked at her in awe. But unfortunately, Beca also learns that a Vanderbilt and a Du Pont are never supposed to be seen together. It's as clear as the purest waters, especially when her biggest bullies are none other than the Vanderbilts themselves, Chloe's older cousins. There was Claire Vanderbilt, Lauren and Xander Hearst, Ethan Walton and Lucy Forbes. It also doesn't help that she is Darius Du Pont's daughter, the only heir to the Du Pont bloodline and possibly the future heir of the royal crown. This is where she starts to recognize jealousy for the first time. Thus, her suffering begins.

Her only consolation?

Getting a smile from Chloe Beale herself. It's always the highlight of her day to watch the charming little redhead comically chat with her group of friends, sing and dance energetically in class. And even though there were so many opportunities for Beca to come close to the popular redhead, her shyness always overcomes that desire to talk to the Vanderbilt again. So, she sadly resorts to just secretly watching over her, peeking from behind trees, walls and even from behind the book she was pretending to be busy with.

Well, the little Vanderbilt has had a knack for being a bit careless sometimes and Beca was just making sure that nothing bad happens to her. Like that one time, she lost her favourite pen— _'It was my favourite teddy bear pen and it had glitter in it!'_ Chloe had cried when she couldn't find it and Beca was quick to scour every inch of the school in an attempt to get it back. Even if she had to get her skirt covered in dirt crawling around the ground during her search.

She finds it underneath one of the tables of the cafeteria.

Chloe's dazzling smile was worth all that trouble as she spots the pen on her desk where Beca had secretly placed it. She made sure no one was looking— _and boy was she getting good in all the stealthy moves._

Beca may have felt that watching from a far was enough but if she thought that she was completely invisible to the little redhead by now, she was in for a surprise.

What started with a simple, "Hi, Beca!" slowly turns into, "What's your favourite colour?" and "Where do you eat lunch?" Chloe also suddenly happens to be everywhere near her and Beca does her best to avoid it. Not because she doesn't want to be near the Vanderbilt but because of her unfortunate habit of hiding away from her, a habit only triggered whenever Chloe is near. She also knows that Chloe's friends give her that wary look and if the redhead is trying to make her join their group, Beca knows perfectly well that she wouldn't fit in or be comfortable around them. It's such a stretch for someone so popular to befriend the outcast. Moreover, Beca couldn't bear to stand underneath the spotlight either, the very spotlight that always shines down on Chloe.

But of course her avoiding tactics were bound to fail.

She was hurrying to the bathroom one time, only to stop and check if any of those bullies are inside. She just doesn't want to be cornered against a wall and give up her homework for them to copy again or other things she is being harassed with. She got locked inside the bathroom stall when she refused so, being careful is a must. Sighing in relief when she finds it empty, she quickly enters.

She was almost leaving when she turns to find the very person she was painfully avoiding standing in her way.

"Beca!" Chloe greets her in that usual enthusiastic manner and Beca freezes instantly. She just knows at this point that she's about to make a fool out of herself.

"Do you like chocolate chip cookies?" she asks eagerly.

Now, before any of that, it's best to note that Beca loves music. Always have, always will. Her own little world is filled with it, fuelling her imaginations and dreams. It's one of the many things she got from her mother which was why her aunt Katherine gave her a pair of headphones as a gift for her ninth birthday, that very pair of headphones which is currently covering her ears. And at that moment, it just so happens that the music playing happens to be, 'You are my sunshine' by Johnny Cash, one of her mother's favourites.

She also taught Beca that the sunshine, despite being harmful to them is such a beautiful thing to see. She says it's one of the things she loves the most before she met Beca's father. But despite never getting to bask in it anymore, she says she doesn't need to look further because to her, Beca and her father will always be her sunshine.

"Sunshine,"

It takes only a second and the puzzled look on Chloe's face for Beca to realize that she had actually blurted the word out loud. Her eyes widen and her cheeks heat up immediately. She even thought of entering back in to one the stalls again to lock herself in it when the little redhead blurts out "Midnight!" in reply. It confuses her for a second until more strange words are being thrown around by the Vanderbilt.

Nevertheless, it was cute and Beca would have sputtered out a word of her own— _Blueberry_ —because this definitely what she's good at, speaking weird words and gibberish, if it wasn't for the other girls coming in to steal Chloe's attention away.

It's another missed opportunity and Beca's hopes crash down yet again. She just can't do anything right, can't even act and talk like normal people do. It's frustrating and disappointing at the same time. Silently, she leaves, aware of the hostile looks from the other girls.

She may have thought it was the end of that but it seems Chloe Beale is actually hard to get rid of. Not when the little redhead finds her in the library the next day. That _totally_ went so well too and now, she's a certified walking embarrassment.

But despite that she gains a nickname, courtesy of Chloe herself, and something to smile about like say, how Chloe also dreams of travelling one day.

By now Beca feels that maybe these little interactions, despite being awkward and surreal, are something she can look forward to everyday. Maybe she can be friends with the popular Chloe. However, as she musters all the confidence she has to try and walk towards the playground where the Vanderbilt is chatting with her friends, her resolve quickly crumbles at the sight of the large number of children, all screaming, playing and running around. Instead, she gulps hard and turns back around swiftly to run back towards her secret spot, heart hammering in her chest.

No, she can't be friends with Chloe.

Vanderbilts aren't supposed to mingle with a Du Pont and vice versa.

Sadly, she sits down on her spot to drown herself in music and let her imagination run wild as she looks at the pictures of places she dreams of visiting one day. It takes a while for her father's assistant to arrive and pick her up so she busies herself with reading for the meantime.

It had only been about a couple of minutes when she feels something soft and warm on her shoulder. That by itself is already enough to give her a shock, but when she turns to see red curls and baby blue eyes, Beca almost gets a serious heart attack. That small squeak she makes is surely going to take one of the top spots on her 'most embarrassing experiences' list.

Having her secret place finally discovered, Beca realizes she's out of places to hide to. But when she is offered delicious cookies and a title that reads, 'Chloe's best friend', she finds that she actually has a choice to make.

She doesn't have to give up her secret place after all. Maybe she just has to share it with someone else now and maybe she doesn't mind that.

In the end, she takes the cookies and the friendship she mentally promises to protect. Chloe is her best friend now and Beca swears this is something she would cherish dearly. And this time, she won't let it be taken away from her again. If anything, she'd fight for it until the end. It was at that point that she decides, she's going to protect Chloe.

Always and forever.

 _You should've known better. Nothing is forever._

* * *

 _Wake up_

 _Wake up_

 _Wake up, Beca_

The first thing she notices is the sound of chirping birds followed by the earthy smell of nature. When she opens her eyes, vision slowly clearing up with every blink, the forest isn't as dark as it was as she last remembered it. There was sunlight spilling up ahead, breaking through the thick trees. She also realizes that she was inside a small cave and frankly, it's a fortunate thing. There was snow covering the ground outside and Beca would've been pissed at waking up to a damp snow covered ground _again_ —like that time in Russia.

When she slowly turns her neck from the side to face straight up, her head is throbbing and she blames the intrusion of dream like memories she's fallen into while unconscious. She begins to move only to pause abruptly. It's unbelievable how she never even quickly realized how comfortably warm she is at the moment. How couldn't it feel so? Lying next to her, a warm body pressed against her side, an arm draped around her middle, legs tangled around her own and warm breathe tickling her neck, creating goose bumps across her skin.

It's even more ridiculous to see how her whole body is practically as straight as a log while the _idiot_ next to her is clinging to her like a koala. It's also comparable to being strapped down on a medical table— _also Russia_ —with the way she was firmly being held in place by arms and legs.

Looking at the sleeping Vanderbilt, she notices the long eyelashes, the curve of her nose, down to those slightly parted lips. Unconsciously, her hand slowly travels upwards, seemingly magnetized, towards the sleeping Vanderbilt's face. But when the second her fingers make contact with smooth soft skin, she pulls away instantly, finally making sense of what she had just done. She slowly slips away from the limbs tangled around her, pushing away the warmth, before quickly walking out of the cave to welcome the icy air outside.

Leaning against the rocky formation nearby, she places a hand against her chest, her heart beating hard and fast. Her breathing fast and shallow as she tries to calm the emotions threatening to spill out.

 _This has to stop_

She hates it. She hates how she can still feel these things. She hates how many times she's been careless. She hates how she can still feel the pain when she should be used to it by now, used to it enough for her to feel numb. She hates how she still remembers everything so vividly well. She hates how the wounds of the past still ache and bleed.

She can't allow herself to be weak now, _not at a time like this_.

Minutes passed by, her breathing normalizes after a while and her heartbeat starts to return to its steady beating, her gaze turning cold, as cold as the winter winds biting sharply at her face. She quickly rebuilds her walls back up, even higher than before, spikes perfectly sharpened and aimed unto anything that threatens to come near her, near the single piece left of her heart. It's the only way she can protect herself. She has to, it's the only thing left to _protect_.

She's learned her lesson. This world is harsh and all she can truly depend on is herself. She's been alone even from the very beginning. She'll always be until the end.

She can't let the past bother her anymore.

 _No more slips this time_

* * *

 **A/N:**

More flashbacks. We are getting to the point where we start finding out more on Beca's point of view. Also just how adorable Bechloe was a billion years ago and just how much I'm building up the hate or angst that will come gushing out of all... one, two...four... eight of you. All eight of you-totes _not_ urging other _secretly_ lurking cuties to _come out_ , nope, this _isn't_ a reverse psychology tactic. So, eight people who are going to stab me in my sleep once I write the next few _dark_ chapters. So, there's that. What else? Uhm. Uhh. Please don't... stab me. Love me, yeah, love me and my angst filled heart instead! :)

 **Also, excuse me Dracula but... _We can live forever and suffer. Die as one together as lovers. Love will be cruel to who it entices. Love will have it's sacrifices._**

 **Sa0621:** Because I am a walking bunch of feels! Just kidding. I doubt you'd love my fic more than your own. I mean your puppy might be the ugliest puppy in the world but you'd still love them more than the cute little fluffy puppies out there-wait. no, scratch the ugly part. You're puppy is cute. All puppies are cute. And sure! Yes to more alien language in the future! Yes to more cool fighting scenes too! Aww. Thank you. I'm glad that my fic is like a motivation for you to write and that's very sweet to hear. Type away then my friend. Make 'em feel all the feels! sHAKE THEIR WORLD!

 **RJRMovieFan:** The fight scenes actually stress me out, because I personally am not confident with it. I love action movies so for me, the bar is very high when it comes to that genre. I'm happy you liked it though. Yeah, Chloe represents someone who has no choice but to fight back. It's so complicated and distressing, I mean just imagining it is horrible. It's like finding yourself in a life or death situation where somebody you care about is the center of all that and it's either you do something to save them or let them die. And if you do save them in expense of taking somebody else's life that's just like such a very traumatic experience to be in. I may have added a bit of a joke in some parts of it to lighten the fic but this is actually a very dark story. Tune in next week! Haha.

 **Yuzu-chi01: _"_** _Goddess of all things badass!"_ Yup, framing and hanging that one up too. Well, we all need rainbows in our lives. Ever since I was young, I've actually always wished to have someone to speak alien language with, pull them into my craziness/weirdness and all that. This thought clearly inspired the alien talk scenes and there will be more of it in the future chapters because I love it! Yes, Beca uniting clans/bloodlines is a very good thought too. Ooh Staubrey~ I have plans, yes there are plans that might... not be subtle. Oh no, I don't want to take Anna Kendrick's title away from her! I'll just be like the 2nd in command of the Bechloe ship! Like the assistant of the captain! Well, Deadpool is like my brother so breaking the fourth wall already runs in the blood :)

 **Abs:** Oh... wow.. that is... that is just... that's... well, I'm pretty awesome I know... no I'm not. I'm kidding. But oh god, that's the sweetest thing somebody's ever said to me (other than that time when somebody told me that I was fun to be with or that time someone said that my drunk self is cute). **Also, I think I'm in love with that comment.**

 **Kasia143:** Russian aristocrats? Really? That's a very interesting fact! Funny 'cause most of Beca's darkest memories happened in Russia (And no I don't think Russians are evil. I just happened to pick Russia out of all the countries in the world. No offense to Russian readers-if there are any). I love that plot! I like all your ideas and that dialogue is gold. Stacie would definitely say that and Beca would look at her lazily and then go like, _"Well, got no choice. Besides, I die either way. Just gonna go suffocate myself with her nasty perfume then," before running after her precious idiot Chloe who has heard the conversation and has now taken a samurai sword, is dressed up in all attack mode and is currently angrily storming off to kill the bitch because she needs to save her otter._ Yeah, it's probably gonna go like that. Thanks, glad you liked all the flashbacks and the fight scenes. Haha it's okay everybody hates Tom at this point. Understandable.

 **Comiiksde** **:** Thank you! I really wanted a badass Beca, badass in a way that is not like too much (too bad or too much of an ass haha) but you know, just right, just cool enough like there's always a reason why she does this and that but underneath she still somehow cares? Cares for her family, cares with what is right and cares about people in general despite all of what she's been through or the reputation built around her. She's going to be a badass leader for sure. Well, I've got so much angst and heart breaking feels inside me I guess. Just kidding! I like it when a story moves me, you know, makes me feel that twist in my stomach and that pinch right at the heart. I like that sort of feeling a lot so I just wanted to recreate feelings like that through writing (god, I'm getting emotional now ehem ehem). Yes to STAUBREY! Aww, thanks. Now, excuse me while I go advertise myself on Tumblr. :)

 **Guest** : Tom's pee pee wants to apologize for upsetting this guest. Tom's pee pee wants to make it right by asking the offended guest out for some netflix and chill or JUST CHILL. Yeah, just chill. Chill. Chillin' Right. Chill. Just some snacks and chill. Ice-cream is probably included in the offer. Chill.

 **Parziwolf:** Otters are very badass. They build their very fancy homes with slides using their small little rock tools, were worshiped by some cult, they are okay with adoption, they have very thick warm furs, some tribe said that they are a symbol loyalty and honesty (although they are also known for 'dread, the undead and drowning' so yeah a bit contradicting but anyways), they love eating and sleeping and they hold hands or hug while they sleep! Okay now let's talk about red pandas... they're adorable, sweet and one of them might be secretly in love with a badass otter (ehem ehem) and that's all you need to know.

Oh I'd love to make a movie with this and we all know who I'm going to cast~

Nope, it's okay. You can read my replies first. Do whatever you want. I'm cool with anything (except drugs, cigarettes and people abusing animals). Thanks for the appreciation. I used to not reply back actually but I've realized communicating with readers is good. All of you are smart and funny and cool and really supportive (excuse me while I cry in a corner)

Yeah! I like puns. I'm so bad at them though. Oh yeah the harp, definitely. It's a must! Gotta' play the harp right ;) See you next week wolf!

 **Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and commented/reviewed Midnight Sunshine! I love and appreciate all of it. See ya next week. Until then just eat lots, sleep like pandas and sing in the shower! Always sing in the shower. You might actually find your soulmate through shower singing.**


	11. Keep Me Warm

**Chapter 11**

* * *

The Mystic Diner

The events that had happen in the last 24 hours was highly comparable to the apocalypse, or at least for Emily that's what all of it feels like, the end of the world. How ironic that hell even chose the day of her birth to rain fire over them. It was too horrifying that recalling and rationalizing exactly what happened is out of the question. It all happened too fast. One minute she was having the time of her life and then ironically the next minute, running for her life.

If it wasn't for Scott pulling her towards safety she wouldn't even have made it out of Victor Barden alive. They've ran hand in hand, dodging and hiding when needed and defending themselves whenever danger passes them by. The sight of Scott bashing a rock unto a person's head runs around her thoughts until now. The whole scenario of utter chaos and violence sweeping the whole campus was enough to give her nightmares for probably, the rest of her life. It was like something out of their history books, the wars of the medieval times and the bloodshed throughout the years. A part of her doesn't even want to believe all that had happened.

Shutting her eyes closed and tightening her grasp on the hand that has comforted her throughout this whole ordeal, she wills the dark thoughts out of her mind.

"Hey," a deep soothing voice breaks her thoughts as she finally opens her eyes once more to calming green orbs that are now looking at her in concern. Scott, gentle and soft spoken Scott Vanderbilt-Collins, the only one by her side at this moment to place his jacket over her and hold her hand to calm her down.

"It's okay, I'm right here," he assures her as he had for the past few hours.

She looks up at the clock hanging in the 24 hour diner located out of town, obviously it was made for travellers and tourists who drop by anytime. Exhaling heavily, she tries not to let the other worrying thoughts drift back into her head.

"It's been over an hour, Scott. They should've arrived by now," she voices out as she glances out of the diner. The sky was starting to brighten and this means that they would have to move in to that cheap motel up ahead—talk about awkward and _oh my holy stars_ the thought of checking in a motel with her long time crush is enough for her poor heart to comprehend.

"They'll be here, don't worry," he says, words filled with hope but as he glances out as well, she catches the slight drop of that hope in his eyes. Clearly, he was trying his hardest to be strong, for both of them, for her. The action warms her heart.

She was just about to suggest heading to that motel, knowing very well how much of a gentleman he is to even suggest taking her to such place, when a car's headlights attracts Emily's attention immediately.

The vehicle stops in front of the diner, next to her Tesla, and for a second Emily suddenly fears it belonged to those murderers but relief washes over her instead when Stacie's face pops out of the side of the vehicle, the spot next to the driver, who happens to be Nick. Her cousins pile out of the car, which she recognizes belongs to Beca—the one of the many she had illegally parked all around the school because as she always says, 'you just never know when shit blows'

 _Funny, how real that statement would actually be._

Stacie was barging into the diner's door in a second, looking like she was about to flip the entire place until she finds Emily. Letting go of Scott's hand and standing up immediately, she rushes towards the taller Du Pont.

"Stace!" she says before quickly being engulfed into a tight hug, not bothering to hold back her tears. When Jesse, Stella and the twins walk in, they quickly join in on the hug. If there was one thing they—mostly Beca—emphasized in the family, it is protecting each other until the very end. They may tease each other, sometimes even argue and fight but when it goes down to it, they'd do anything for each other.

When they break apart, she looks at each one of her cousins, her smile faltering as she realizes something but before she could point it out, Nate speaks out.

"What is he doing here?" he asks, looking guardedly at Scott who was standing behind.

"He saved my life," she immediately defends, standing in front of her older cousin to stop him from doing anything that would harm the Vanderbilt. "If it wasn't for him… I wouldn't be here right now, breathing," she explains further, emphasizing each word.

Nate looks down at her then back up at Scott again, his features softening as he slowly nods. "Guess, we owe you one then," he admits towards Scott who shakes his head.

"Our bloodline issues don't matter in times like this. We all need to work together to help each other," he says before softly adding, "And Emily is my friend,"

His words has all her cousins looking at him and for once, Emily finally hears the words she had always wished to speak out loud for years. But then no matter how much she wants to dwell on this very touchy subject, there are other pressing matters to discuss.

"Where's Beca? Did she get in the helicopter?" she asks anxiously, searching her cousins' faces for answers. But one look at their downcast eyes and long faces, the answer might not be one which she will like at all.

"Guys?" she tries again before looking at the one person she knows will never lie to her. Stella, her best friend.

The younger Conrad looks at her sadly and guiltily, knowing very well how much Beca meant to her. Beca was like her older sister, sometimes a mentor to her, the one she always looked up to and adored so much. She had idolized the Du Pont heir despite the negative influence they tell her Beca might pass on to her.

"The helicopter never flew," Stella starts to say. "She wouldn't even get in it, no matter what they did to make her leave. She told us to go to the car and drive away after ten minutes or whenever necessary. She specifically said to trust no one else and that she'd follow shortly while she looks for you. We waited but both of you didn't show up. By that time, those killers were everywhere. Last thing we saw was that they burned down our helicopter, along with the others that didn't make it up in the air. Then we got your message and… we don't know where Beca is or if…" she falters, her eyes now glassy as she looks at her older sister for help.

"We are not sure about anything," Stacie says firmly, putting an arm around Emily whose tears started falling down by now. If something happened to Beca then it would ultimately be her fault.

But Stacie was quick to melt away that guilt that is currently starting to eat her alive, "Em, you didn't cause any of this. Those uninvited people did. And you know how strong she is. Beca is a survivor, she's a fighter and those clowns? They are nothing against her!" Stacie says confidently as she looks straight into Emily's eyes.

"For all we know, she could be drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels on top of their dead asses while giving them all the finger and then muttering about how boring they are to _play_ with. I mean, that lazy bum does have psychopathic tendencies sometimes—or at least when you wake her up before midnight," Stacie lightly chuckles, wiping away Emily's tears. The thought is a bit comforting and a light smile finally curves in her own lips.

"Yeah," Jesse adds in. "Remember that time when we went out to shop for kitchen stuff and she totally went to the knife section to stroke each one lovingly like they were her children? Then we spent hours waiting for her because she can't decide which 'baby' to take home? And then she ended up buying ten and we had to drag her away before she could buy more? I mean, Stacie has a point," he voices out, looking far away as he shakes his head at the memory, eliciting a few much needed light laughs from everyone.

Emily allows herself to soak in on the happier thoughts, calming down her worries even for a few minutes. Until another important question pops up once more and this time it suddenly has her nervous.

"So, does this situation mean a… a temporary takeover?" she slowly lets out, remembering all that Beca has told her. It was part of the family protocol after all.

"I believe it is," Nate breathes out, looking at all his cousins before settling his gaze over her. "In the absence of the heir, the position of head temporarily lies unto a blood relative. Amongst our parents, those who have been born from the direct Du Pont line are all cousins, which makes us all potential heirs but," he pauses for a moment. "We can easily figure out who is next if we take into consideration the proper flow of our family tree. What I'm trying to say is, he or she who is the closest blood relative of both Beca's parents gets to be the next rightful heir," he slowly unravels, an information Emily already knows, important information Beca herself told her.

"All our fathers are cousins with Beca's father, so are Louis and Claudia's mother and Dominique's mother while Lorraine's father is also cousins with uncle Darius. The rest are second and third generation cousins. Which then leaves us to… Beca's mother," he carefully presents while all eyes now land towards Emily.

"Aunt Katherine is aunt Robbyn's sister however, she isn't exactly from a Du Pont bloodline. But you, you have both Mitchell and direct Du Pont blood in you, Em," Stacie finishes gently.

"Which makes me next in line," Emily states shakily before looking up at Stacie in panic. "But I don't know how. I-I'm not ready for this! How can I even lead the family? I can't—"

"Shh," the older Conrad hushes her, wrapping her arms around her and rubbing her back to calm her down. "It's alright. Breathe, okay? You're not alone in this. We're all here, we'll do this together, _chérie_ ," Stacie whispers in her ear. Emily does what she is told, focusing on her every inhale and exhale.

"Okay, look at me," the older Conrad says releasing her from the hug to cup her face with her hands. "What do you think would Beca do right now if she were here? What do you think she'd say?" Stacie asks and Emily envisions the Du Pont heir coming down to the kitchen grumbling about things that annoy her—usually, the twins or _the idiot_ with blue eyes and red hair—and reaching for her black cup of brewed coffee. She recalls the times they'd all look at Beca lounging lazily on the sofa for the final decision as she gives all of them a bored look.

 _What would Beca do?_

"She'd say we look like zombies and that… even zombies need to eat and sleep first before stumbling forward?" she tries and this earns her a nod.

"That's good! Rest is good. That's exactly what the grumpy otter would say. We can do that first," Stacie says with a warm smile, stopping her from saying more while the others agree, Nate even fondly ruffles her hair.

They were contemplating about staying at the motel nearby or braving the early sunrise and driving further to the next town when another set of headlights shine from outside, causing all of them to take up a defensive stance.

Emily waits with bated breath until the headlights switch off and quickly relaxes when golden blonde hair pops out of the vehicle. Aubrey Posen and what seems like the rest of the Vanderbilts exit out of the car and it's crazy to think that despite all that had happened they still look immaculately fashionable—hair and clothes all properly and neatly styled. Next to Emily, she hears what could be a relieved sigh from Stacie.

"What? It could be worse," the leggy brunette mumbles defensively when Jesse gives her a questioning look.

Something's going on there and Emily hopes to find out what it is after this mess is over. But for now, the Aubrey and Stacie issue had to be put aside.

Aubrey steps in the diner followed by her brother, Arthur and Tom's sister, Claire. Scott was immediately walking over to his cousins and this time the panicked look Emily was wearing a while ago is now evident in his eyes. He glances over to the car his cousins just left while Aubrey slowly shakes her head.

"She's got to be with Tom, right? He brought her with him, right?" she hears him ask repeatedly and this is the first time his composed façade breaks for a bit.

However, the second she looks at the Vanderbilts, Emily realizes exactly what has Scott all worked up.

Chloe.

Chloe whom she had invited to her birthday party tonight, Chloe whom she also considers as a sister. The sweet Chloe who gets her broody cousin to think twice before sighing heavily and tentatively walking back in her room to delicately or better yet, awkwardly, place a blanket over the Vanderbilt sleeping on the sofa—Beca threw it over the redhead at first like she was the plague but thought twice about it again and fixed it properly the second time. Chloe who bought them all blueberry cheesecake—because she says Beca _loves_ blueberry—and helped Stella with her homework—because the twins are useless. The adorable Chloe who somehow fits herself perfectly in their noisy family with her beautiful melodies and lively re-enactments of movies, which she even got Beca to watch. That Chloe, who actually got Beca to supress a smile when she made cookies with chocolate letters written on top of it—which secretly reads 'y r u evil? u need hugs' when aligned properly. Based on the slight curve of Beca's pursed lips before she clears her throat and schools her features back into one without emotion, _she most definitely got the secret message_.

Yes, _that_ Chloe.

"She said she was going to be out late doing a project which I'm pretty sure is a lie," Aubrey says, now looking at Scott with intensity.

Emily's heart sinks at where this could all lead to. If Beca wasn't here because she was looking for her, Chloe wasn't here because she was at a party, her birthday party, far from her cousins, from Tom, from safety.

"She was with us. I begged her to come to my party," Emily finally blurts out, eyes empty as she looks at the Vanderbilts who all then focus on her.

"What?" Aubrey's sharp tone slices up to the roof as she slowly takes a few steps towards her. Almost instantly, Stacie takes a step in front of her, blocking any possibility of Aubrey inflicting anger upon her. The two females eye each other with intensity and Emily has to admit she has never seen Stacie this serious before. The tension grows heavy with every passing second.

"Move, Stacie," Aubrey says through gritted teeth.

"You don't want to go there, Aubrey," Stacie bites back in a low tone.

Without even a thought, Emily gives in to her urge to break the impending fight and finally steps next to Stacie, a hand on the older girl's arm to convey her silent message. Stacie's body slowly relaxes and a second later she breaks off from the suffocating tension to give her trust on to Emily.

"It's my birthday, I invited her," she finally explains further, trying to stand firm but unconsciously swallowing the growing lump on her throat.

"You've got to be kidding me," Claire comments icily, jaw clenching and a brow arching up at Emily's words. "Why would she go to your party?"

The words were venomous and Emily resists the urge to hide behind Stacie again. She's unofficially the Du Pont heir as of today and Beca, if she were here, would certainly do anything but hide behind someone else's back. Beca always proudly faced things head first despite the general notion that she's the most useless heir. All these years, she may have always stood from the back, silently, but it was because that's how she protects them, always letting them go first so she can see them all, making sure that nobody gets left behind and that all of them are safe. To Emily, that's what a true leader should be. It's what Beca has taught her in case a scenario like this appears and that's exactly what Emily is going to follow.

But then the mere thought of her missing cousin already makes Emily's heart hurt and unconsciously, it takes her back only a few weeks ago when she and Beca were lounging on the upper floor's sofa of their manor.

"What did I tell you about fear, Em?" Beca asks as she swirls her glass of blood. They've gotten to the topic mainly because she and Stella had been binge watching on horror movies with their friends and now the mere thought of being alone in her room or shutting of the lights scares her.

"To face it with everything you got because you can only fight fear with courage?"

"Exactly," Beca says before drinking blood and letting out a pleased sigh at the flavour. She then looks over at her with a serious look in her eyes which Emily can easily recognize. Beca's about to say something important.

"If the time comes that you'd have to face fear on your own in order to protect the family, you'll find it easier to put in mind something you can hold on to, something that… makes you feel safe. It lessens the fear and heightens the need to keep yourself from falling into that dark trap your own mind creates," Beca continues to swirl her drink, gazing into it blankly.

"Death is probably what everybody thinks is the ultimate fear. But I disagree. If death is the price for your loved ones safety? Death only becomes something so small," she adds in a soft tone, almost melancholic. "Losing your loved ones, that, for me, should be the ultimate fear. It's like dying but not being granted death. You continue to breathe, suffering with every intake of air too painful that you just wish you'd stop existing," she whispers, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

Silence wraps the whole room, her words slowly settling down on her system like cold water pouring down on her. It confuses her for a moment but when it clears up, Emily doesn't think she likes where it's leading. It doesn't help that this isn't the first time Beca has spoken like this.

"Why do you keep telling me all this, Beca? It's like," she pauses for a second to think of the right words. "It's like one day you're not going to be here anymore,"

The Du Pont heir looks up at her once more, this time a small smile forms in her lips, curving on one side. Her swirling stops as she takes another sip.

"We're all going to stop existing one day, that's the truth," she points at her when she says this, emphasizing her words.

"You can never tell, maybe tomorrow or in the next hundred years my time's going to run out and when it happens, it would leave the family in your arms. I trust you'll be such a good heir, even if you deny or doubt it I still believe that you're going to be way better than me. You just have to believe in yourself," she finishes her drink before stepping closer to her.

"Besides, you have something I don't,"

Her words make her frown a bit, her mind thinking of a guess as to what might it be but nothing comes up so she asks. "And what is that?"

"An unbroken heart. Which makes you very powerful. Use it well and take extreme care of it, _ma choupette,_ " Beca pats her head gently as she says the adorable endearment she's given her before walking off to, possibly, the forest yet again.

The short memory ends yet it's enough to give her a boost of confidence, even though some part of her still feels unsure and scared. Nevertheless, she stands straight, taking another step towards the Vanderbilts, her chocolate orbs looking back at their icy ones.

"This stupid war between our families is ridiculous and childish. There are a bunch of killers out there who would want nothing but to rip our hearts out and our family rivalry isn't going to stop them from doing that," she spits back at Claire.

"And I invited Chloe because she is my friend and so is Scott," she eyes the Vanderbilt who looks back at her. It doesn't take much to decipher the knowing look he gives her before he nods his head in silent agreement. This small encouragement he gives her fuels the courage deep within her.

She's done hiding what she felt is right all these years.

"Yes, if anything happens to her, I put myself responsible for it. And if it ends up being something I have to carry for the rest of my life then so be it. But right now, we need to survive and fighting like a bunch of little brats is going to get us nowhere near survival," she looks back and forth at her cousins and the Vanderbilts, looking at each of them before settling her eyes unto Aubrey, the likely candidate to be heir during Tom's absence.

"We are going to stay at the motel up ahead. We have an advantage in numbers but if you've got other plans then I'm not going to stop you. The sun is going to be glaring at us real soon so I'd advise you to move fast," she finishes before taking off Scott's jacket and handing it over to him.

He takes it as they share a look, words unspoken hanging at the tip of Emily's tongue but she couldn't say them, not at a time like this. Maybe someday. Maybe when everything goes back to normal. Instead, she steps away towards the door, her cousins following behind her.

She hasn't even gotten in the car when she hears Aubrey call out to her, "Wait,"

Turning around, she looks at the blonde haired Vanderbilt who seemed a little hesitant as she exhales heavily before talking.

"You're right," Aubrey breathes out but no sooner has she spoken those words her brother immediately reacts behind her.

"You can't possibly be serious—"

"Silence, Arthur!" she cuts him off quickly, raising a hand in front of him while Claire rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"You guys have any better plans?" Aubrey asks her cousins in a tone nobody wants to oppose. "It's a motel with vampires who aren't going to put us in coffins, for real," she points out, emphasizing the last two words. "Or out there in the sun being chased by a bunch of sadistic imbeciles who would definitely put us in coffins, for real!" she glares at her brother then at Claire who both look away.

Silence passes for a moment yet again until Scott breaks it by clearing his throat and heading to their own car.

"Motel it is then," he answers awkwardly.

They all start moving in silence, getting in their own cars to drive to the motel, the Du Ponts leading the way. At this point, Emily knows anything can happen and somewhere in the back of her head she just prays that Beca's right about her leadership skills.

God, she really hope Beca is alive because this… being the heir thing is no joke.

 _I need you. We need you, Beca._

* * *

"I said I'm fine!"

That's what Beca has harshly spat at her yet Chloe could easily tell that it was far from the truth. But the Du Pont was stubborn and no matter how many times she tried to reach out to hold her Beca was quick to pull her arm away from her. It made Chloe feel like she was some virus Beca didn't want to catch and it actually hurts.

 _Being left behind hurts too_

The distance between them is rapidly increasing once more. It's as if she hadn't felt Beca's arms around her an hour ago or felt her heart cradled so preciously to the soft hum the brunette made to the familiar tune of their childhood. For a moment there, it almost gave her hope that maybe things between them would finally be repaired. Sadly, that hope had abruptly left as soon as they started their journey by foot. It left with the Beca who held her tight and made her feel safe.

 _It left when you walked away eight years ago_

It shouldn't really be surprising that Beca's body collapses minutes later but it still had Chloe shouting out her name in concern. Beca had been losing blood since that time she got wounded on her arm and near her hip from the knife's blade. The dark red liquid had constantly been dripping down her fingers and ankles. Unbelievably, it actually got Beca pissed more than concerned because she says it just leaves a trail for their enemies to find them—but their lack of gauze and what not didn't really gave them a choice.

 _You never gave her a choice_

It was a miracle how she even found a cave. Carrying Beca on her back as she almost stumbled and tripped on the uneven terrain for almost half an hour, the sight of shelter, no matter how shabby, was a huge relief. It probably was adrenaline that kept her going. Nevertheless, she got the both of them a place to hide and rest throughout the day. Taking off her jacket, she placed it down the cold ground before laying Beca on it.

Chloe eyes the butterfly knife Beca had kept, the very knife she used to stab the woman straight to her heart, killing her. The object brings a dreadful feeling Chloe tries to escape but can't. Kneeling next to the Du Pont, she reaches for the deadly weapon with shaking hands. There's no time to give in to her traumatic memory right now, Beca needs blood. Chloe's blood.

 _She needs you now just like she needed you before_

Swallowing hard, she slowly presses the blade on to the skin of her wrist. Inhaling air deeply, she finally slices through her own flesh. The stinging pain makes her gasp as she watches dark red liquid trickle down her skin. Lifting, Beca's head slightly, she places her bleeding wrist against the Du Pont's slightly parted lips, letting her blood drip down inside her mouth.

 _It's the least you can do_

There is movement in Beca's shut eyelids, increasing rapidly, a frown appearing in her face. It only takes two seconds until Beca's lips start to move and before Chloe knows it Beca, even with her eyes closed and in the state between consciousness and deliriousness, presses her bleeding wrist harder against her lips, drinking thirstily. The act makes her heart hammer inside her chest, her stomach twist and her breathing shallow. After all, drinking blood between vampires is such an intimate affair and elicits a feeling that is easily tantamount to French kissing and _other things_. She could already feel the heat rising up in her cheeks and goose bumps forming in her neck. With Beca gripping on her wrist tight and unlikely to let go anytime soon, Chloe leans Beca's back against her own chest, the brunette's head settling against her shoulder before resting her own forehead against the side of the brunette's head. She tightly holds Beca in her arms as a wave of nostalgia hits her. Back to a time when they meant so much to each other and the world seemed like a beautiful place to live in then.

 _She used to hold you like that_

The temperature had dropped drastically by now as snow starts to fall heavily and Chloe was truly tempted to build a fire- she learned it from camp training 101 and was awarded most likely to survive in the wild and other harsh environment scenarios. But then building a fire is like waving a huge neon yellow flag towards their enemies and would certainly get them killed. The scent of smoke alone is enough to give away their whereabouts. So, in the end she does the only alternative to fight off the cold.

Hugging.

She continued to keep Beca close to her. The Du Pont had stopped drinking at some point and is currently in the middle of a deep slumber. Her face now has a bit of colour in it unlike the ghostly pale shade she sported a while ago. Lying on her side with an arm supporting her head, Chloe watches every rise and fall of the brunette's chest, relieved to find her recovering fast.

It may have been almost ten years but Beca's face has retained that youthful look Chloe remembers back then. The only difference was her more defined cheekbones and jaw—and that sinful smirk partnered with that dark seductive look she annoyingly does.

"Don't go,"

A whisper pulls Chloe from her thoughts as she looks back at the sleeping Du Pont. She swore she heard her say something but she wasn't exactly sure what it was. Instinctively, she leans her ear close to the Du Pont, wondering if Beca is finally gaining consciousness and needs something.

"Please, don't," Beca softly murmurs.

Chloe looks over at the Du Pont's face, she remains sleeping yet her eyes underneath her eyelids are moving rapidly indicating that she might be dreaming.

"Beca?" she tries, placing a hand on top of the brunette's arm yet she doesn't get any response. What she gets though is furrowed brows and a slight finger twitch.

"Don't leave me,"

As soon as the words leave the Du Pont's lips, Chloe pauses. A huge wave of memories crash straight towards her, memories she forced to keep locked away deep within her. The memories that she tried so hard to bury down in order to ease her guilt. Yet it seems no matter how much she tries it just keeps coming back, stronger than ever. And tonight, it might as well have blown up from the box she shoved it in.

The box she kept hidden _eight years ago_.

"Shh! Keep it down! I got you something,"

"You did? I—Oh! Pancakes!" Beca exclaims, eyes widening at the sight of the paper bag filled with food, Chloe had been carrying as she sneaks inside Beca's home, an easy task with how huge the mansion was and Darius Du Pont's presence barely felt. Besides, Chloe basically has the house's blueprint in mind including all the secret or hidden emergency passages. Beca had taught her all of it.

"They're not just pancakes, they're blueberry pancakes. Your favourite!"

"You… made these for me?"

"Yup! Well, when you said that you missed those pancakes your mother used to make I raided our kitchen and made them. I did have help though. Told them I was craving for it so—woah! And here I thought you hated hugging. Uhh… Becs, a-are you crying?" she asks uncertainly as soon as she hears small sniffles.

"You remembered… It's just… I was having the worst day. Thank you, Chloe. Thank you for being here, for being... you. You're… all I have and I guess… that's all I really need," the brunette says in between soft sobs and Chloe feels her arms wrap even tighter around her.

"You're all I need,"

"Becs, what's wrong? Did your father say something again? And please stop crying before I start bawling as well," Chloe asks worriedly, blinking back her own tears as she softly pats the back of Beca's head, hugging her back.

"I don't want to talk about it," Beca answers weakly and Chloe nods her head in understanding.

"Chlo, can you promise me something?" Beca asks, her voice raw and vulnerable.

"Uhm apart from all the million things I promised you we'd do when we go to Victor Barden and places we'd explore together?" Chloe quips back, hoping to earn a smile from her best friend. She is rewarded with a soft chuckle and it brings a smile to her own lips as she begins to sway them both gently in the middle of their hug.

"Yes, but this one's way, way more important,"

"Okay, what is it?"

"Don't ever leave me. Please promise me that, Chlo," Beca breathes out pleadingly, almost desperately.

"Becs," Chloe slightly pulls away from the hug to look at her best friend who is looking down, avoiding Chloe's eyes as she wipes her own tears away from her cheeks.

"Becs," she says once more, tucking the strands of Beca's hair in order for friend to look straight at her.

"I'll always be here, always. And we pinky swore on that already so, you and me? It's forever! I promise," she beams and finally a smile forms on Beca's lips. It's adorable whenever Beca smiles and Chloe loves seeing it because the shy Du Pont rarely does it whenever they are in public.

"So, feel better?" she asks and when Beca replies with a, "A little," Chloe opens her arms excitedly before giving the surprised brunette a big bear hug. The impact was enough to knock Beca off her feet, dragging Chloe down with her as they both fall down the floor next to Beca's bed trying not to laugh too loud unless they want to be caught.

Rolling to Beca's side in order for her best friend to breathe, Chloe grins at the wheezing Du Pont.

"Are you trying to kill me, sunshine?" Beca coughs out while Chloe lets out a giggle, both of them too lazy to get up from their position on the floor.

"Yeah, I'm going to kill you with all my special hugs, midnight," she replies teasingly, poking Beca's cheek while Beca then tries to playfully bite her finger.

"Becs,"

"What now?"

"Feel better?" she asks with a smile as she stares at her best friend who is currently looking up at the ceiling, seemingly deep in thought.

But when Beca looks back at her, Chloe already has a feeling that her 'make Becs feel better' tactic is working.

"Yeah, so much better," Beca says as Chloe tangles her fingers around Beca's. She feels a tight squeeze and it's enough to convince her that the Du Pont really means it.

 _But what have you done instead?_

Chloe pulls herself out of the memory as she finds herself back into the present, Beca's face now calm as Chloe realizes that she was now holding the Du Pont's hand. A tear makes its way down her cheek and without hesitation she inches closer to the sleeping Du Pont. She wraps her arm around Beca, hugging her tightly as she finally cracks, sobs breaking out of her lips.

Burying her head at the crook of Beca's neck, she continues to cry, tears flowing freely as she clings tightly to Beca like she was her lifeline. The beating of Beca's heart, the only thing consoling her and calming her down.

"I won't," she whispers shakily against Beca's ear.

"I'm not leaving, not this time," she swears, the words tumbling out of her lips over and over again like a prayer.

 _This time, it's for good_

* * *

 **A/N:**

This my friends is an interesting twist of things. Here we have person C wanting to finally hold on to person B who has literally every intention to keep their distance as long and wide as all the oceans of the world combined. Now, I wonder how this all going to play out. One thing's for sure, the angst in this fic is going to be overflowing. I mean the first fic I did had angst for 12 chapters, and that was a very light story (at least for me) and has a lot of grammatical errors. It only had 15 chapters by the way. So... that's going to be interesting. In addition to that, we also have person E who claims that she is friends with person S and vice versa. But then lingering looks suggest otherwise. Funny. Oh and let's not forget person A and person S (not to be confused with the first person S, this one is the female S) with their very fiery _tension_ and relieved sighs. Tune in next week to "Will they? Won't they?"

 **Fan:** Thank you!

 **RJRMovieFan:** P...robably? Well, the adult Du Ponts and Vanderbilts are actually more civil with each other, given they are much more mature. They tend to just ignore each other and keep their nasty opinions against each other to themselves. Because of course, there's still that feeling of dislike and tension between families deep down due to the intense rivalry they all experienced all through out their childhood up until their teens. They just handle it more maturely than the kids do. Also, Robbyn, Beca's mom isn't born into this rivalry. She was a normal human for most of her life. Which is why she is more comfortable being close and friendly with the Vanderbilts, especially Chloe's parents. So, if there's one person who did really try to change things it's Robbyn. Thank you... for not having any plans of stabbing me and deciding to continue reading. Much appreciated.

 **Comiiksde:** Aww thanks! That's sweet of you. Also, the hashtag is #blueberrykisses. Just kidding! No hashtags.

 **Yuzu-chi01:** M...aybe? There's something mystical and magical in the Winter Forest for sure. Good question about the assassin who killed Beca's mom. We might get to that in the future. Aww that would've been great and that's a really funny story! Loved that. Also, agreeing with the united bloodlines. We just need a legal and binding contract, a house and then probably a baby? Yeah, that could work. As for Staubrey... that elephant is about to enter the party. Nope, that ship won't sink. We all won't let that happen (if we have to force them to re-shoot a Bechloe ending then we fucking will) Yes Deadpool is ma big bro. He's a huge pile of dog poo but I love him. Yeah "No more slips this time"!

 **Sa0621:** Because we are all masochists in the inside and angst makes everything fucking interesting! There I said it. And yes, definitely so much more worth it. That's the author life. We either get love or murder. There's no in between. By the way, is it crazy that I actually figured out that the unnamed guest was you in before reading your second comment?

 **Parziwolf:** Russia is such a sensitive topic and Beca would rather leave it in the dark. I, on the other hand want to shed even a bit of light to the Russia incident just because I want to. And yes, if cookies don't work Chloe is basically a wrecking ball. So, I hope Beca's concrete walls are prepared for that. Yes, stab me. I'm prepared! No, I'm not. Please don't stab me. I'm soft and squishy. I won't survive the attack. Thank you! Well, if this gets published I'll sign your copy and if they turn it into a movie I'll give you free VIP tickets (one for you and your date, *wink wink* she'll be so impressed~)and a large popcorn and drinks of your choice.

 **Kasia143:** Oh no, keep going with all these juicy and scandalous History 101! Oh my god, I love it. It's so cool and absurd at the same time. It's like the past history version of Gossip Girl and Keeping up with the Kardashians combined. Also, keep going with this little jealousy story line. Sassy Chloe seems hot. Kissing Beca in the neck might lead to some other... _situations_. So, I'm totes okay with this.

Okay, breathe, don't be stressed... just yet. I guess, it's only right I give a warning then.

 **Warning** : Uhh things are going to... get... even... darker... so... fasten your seatbelt?... You've been warned.

Sa0621 doesn't need any more encouragement. We do plan to shake people's worlds with our words. It's a hobby because we are bored with imaginations as vast as the universe and have nothing to do but write it down...and shake worlds. Oh and you'll survive don't worry. You'll fall but there are cottony soft pillows and cute panda or otter plushies down at the bottom. Don't worry, we got you.

Have a happy redchoco day!

 **kimmania:** Thanks for reading! I appreciate it so much.

 **Abs:** Thanks! I try to give all these characters good story lines as much as possible. I just hope I can keep it up until the last word of this fic.

Well, you forgot the unlimited pizza. That, guitar lessons and a laptop then we're good. :) :) :)

 **Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and commented/reviewed Midnight Sunshine! I love and appreciate all of it. See ya next week. Until then just keep being awesome and don't forget to hug your loved ones.**


	12. In Your Love

**Chapter 12**

* * *

 **8 years ago**

"I don't want to go," Beca exhales heavily as she lies down the spread out cloth underneath the huge weeping willow at the edge of the Du Pont garden, also called as 'the loo' in alien language.

' _Meet me at the loo'_

' _Okay! Be there in ten'_

"But you always do every single year," Chloe who was lying next to her says in the same forlorn tone. The redhead shifts after a few moments, lying on Beca's stomach instead. Looking up at her, she stares as if studying her face, "Because you don't really have a choice, remember?"

Beca groans at her words and instinctively twirls a strand of Chloe's hair around her finger. "I don't even know why he has to bring me back to France every summer. It's not like I do anything there," she complains.

"But your cousins are going to be there and you'll probably be going on cool summer vacations in Greece," Chloe says wistfully before adding, "I want to go to Greece,"

"Yeah, I know but it would be so much better if you were there! Can't you tell your parents to go to France in the summer instead? We can go to Greece together!" Beca asks, still hoping to find a solution to their huge problem. Apparently, it's been a problem of theirs for three years now and yet a solid solution to said problem remains non-existent. They've tried almost everything, getting the flu, acquiring allergies and other absurd excuses just so they can both stay in Maryland.

"I doubt it. They've been planning to go to Florida for ages and then dad's going to take us to New York for some business thing. I'm also meeting up with Aubrey there and she has plans, as she always does, for us to go visit a couple of places she says I _should_ visit with her. I swear, she's got like a notebook filled with just plans for the next ten years or so which she follows _very_ religiously. Because she can't, for the love of god, do anything spontaneous, or at least not listed in that notebook of hers," Chloe drones on, emphasizing some of her words with big hand gestures and adorable pouts from time to time.

Watching her, Beca simply smiles, unable to shake off the happy thought of what it must be like to be spending her summer vacation with her best friend—her _only_ friend. For three years they've suffered having to be apart for about three months every year, and that isn't even counting Christmas vacation. But then if they can be separated for three months, a couple of weeks becomes almost bearable. Almost.

"Becs?" Chloe's voice pulls her back as she looks down at her best friend, bright blue eyes looking at her intently.

"Hm?"

"You're flying away on your own again. Come back to me!" Chloe playfully whines, tugging on the sleeve of Beca's shirt as she does so.

"Why are you are so needy?" Beca chuckles.

"Because I'm talking and you need to listen when I do! It's called being polite. Aren't heirs supposed to be practicing that all the time? And _I am_ needy! I want Beca Mitchell's full attention, now!" Chloe continues, pouting at her as she shifts in her spot to give her those infamous puppy eyes, her cheek now pressed against Beca's stomach.

"What? What was that? I'm sorry I didn't hear you. It's just that the thought of delicious crispy, juicy chicken dipped in gravy and the sizzling sounds of bacon being fried deserves my attention more," Beca counters teasingly, making sure to exaggerate her tone of longing while she bites on her lower lip to keep herself from laughing.

She hears her best friend gasp mockingly in disbelief and Beca should have known better than to ignore Chloe Beale because the consequences are extremely terrible. Before she could even say another word, she is wheezing as Chloe pounces on top of her like a luggage being dropped on to her stomach or like one of those moves those wrestlers do in order for their opponents to tap out. This is then followed by merciless tickling as Chloe grabs on to her sides.

"Give me attention! I want my special Becs Becs attention!" Chloe whines as Beca dissolves into a mixture of giggles and yelps of protests.

"Okay! Okay! Take it! Take all of it! You have it now!" Beca finally gives in and almost instantly the tickle attack stops. When the Du Pont pops one eye open, she sees red hair cascading down, tickling her neck and a wide toothy grin.

"Yay!" Chloe cheers in that cute and small voice she uses whenever she tries to ask Beca for a favour. It's like having a puppy following you around twenty-four seven that nips at your feet for attention. Chloe then rolls off of her, settling down on her back beside Beca as if nothing happened.

"Chlo Chlo gobby mashy wallows," she asks in 'baby' alien language—because a baby version is necessary in times of need—which translates to, 'Please feed me marshmallows' as she grabs the pack of marshmallows next to her and dangles it in front of Beca's face.

"Why do I hang out with you again?" Beca says as she rolls her eyes and sits up, taking the pack of soft sweets to tear it open for her best friend. The Du Pont then proceeds to choose the blue marshmallows to feed to the happy redhead.

"Because you love me?" Chloe says cutely as she sits up to nudge Beca with her shoulder.

Looking up as if asking the heavens why things are so, Beca puffs out air while shaking her head. When she looks back down however, it's like an answer finally popped up in her head, "Ah right, it's because my father didn't allow me to have a pet puppy," she says in mock amazement before softly patting the top of her best friend's head.

Swatting her hand away, the redhead fires her defense, "No puppy can be as charming and as cute as I. That, you should always remember. Without me your life is going to be gray and dull," she pokes at her nose, making Beca wince. "Just admit it, you can't live without me, Becs. I am the mid to your night and the sun to your shine," she says with a look that challenges Beca to say otherwise.

The Du Pont doesn't say anything, not even a scoff or a laugh. Instead, she takes another blue marshmallow and lifts it up for Chloe to bite. And maybe, Chloe doesn't need a direct answer. Beca may be bad at words, especially when said in a way that comes directly from the heart but her answer was already as clear as the sky in a cloudless day, at least to Chloe it was. And for that, she is thankful to have someone like Chloe to understand Beca 'the awkward stuttering mess' Mitchell despite her lack of communication skills. It was like mental telepathy. Chloe always knew.

So without any further words, Chloe rests her head on Beca's shoulder and lets out a heavy sigh, "I'll miss you when summer comes. I'm going to miss you every summer until we enter Victor Barden, it seems. That's about seven summers," she says sadly as they look out into the peaceful and calming view of the lake.

"When I take my place on the high seat. I'm going to change everything," Beca begins after a few quiet moments and one deep intake of air. "No more of that fighting. I'll bring you with me to France! I'll take you anywhere you want to go, do whatever you want to do and eat everything you want to eat! No more goodbyes, ever. You and me, 'till the end. I promise," she softly says determinedly, making Chloe lift her head up from Beca's shoulder to look back at her.

"You'll be such a great, badass leader someday. The best ever! I can already see it! I'd really love to go do all that!" Chloe says, intertwining her fingers around Beca's as she looks down at their hands, the brightness in her eyes diminishing a bit at the thought of the absurd situation between their families.

"I just don't understand all of the hate between… all of them. But when you do become the awesome leader that you are, all of that is going to disappear. We can finally share a room when we grow up too! Also, you and me, lots of hugs 'till the end. I promise!" Chloe finally cheers, a smile returning back in her lips.

"You and your hugging addictio—oh no," Beca doesn't even get to say more as Chloe lunges in for another big bear hug, arms refusing to release her even if she angrily protests. It'll only be useless, Chloe's not letting go.

"Stop…hug…ging…me…too tight—can't breathe… Fine! I promise!" the Du Pont chokes out and soon enough the hug loosens a bit, only a bit though. The redhead continues to hold her until Beca slowly wraps her own arm around Chloe. They sway gently, finding comfort in the warmth they share.

"Hey, I just had a thought!" Chloe suddenly says, finally releasing Beca to look at her excitedly.

"Is it another crazy thought? Or just one of your puppy thoughts?" Beca asks, squinting her eyes at Chloe.

"No, it's something to add into our college bucket list!" Chloe claps, reminding Beca of a seal she saw on one of those water amusement parks she went to with Stacie and Jesse once.

"How about, on our freshman year, we go and trek the mysterious Winter Forest!" Chloe almost squeals in excitement as she searches Beca's face for any sort of approval. However, she remains emotionless with her jaw dropping ever so lightly every now and then. So Chloe continues to pitch in her idea with much more enthusiasm.

"Don't you even want to know what we could discover in there? There could be extra-terrestrial life out there. Real aliens! Or maybe, Pokémon! You know how much I want one Becs," she dreamily sighs.

"Chlo," Beca starts in a serious manner, grabbing on to both Chloe's flailing arms to get her full attention.

When she does, Beca continues, "That's not a bucket list. That's a death wish," she deadpans, diminishing the spark in Chloe's eyes, but not entirely.

"B-But Becs that can be like a great adventure! A once in a lifetime thing! Besides, I heard the werewolves take a stroll in that forest every full moon. So, why can't we? What if we find a house in the middle of the forest and then we can spend summers there instead! You know, like expanding our secret hideout," Chloe thinks out loud as Beca groans.

"Why? Why am I friends with you?" Beca cries out loud towards the sky.

"Gekos Becs Becs wubby Chlo Chlo!" Chloe replies, which then translates into "Because you love me!" as she takes a pink marshmallow and pushes it in Beca's mouth when she tries to throw another teasing insult.

"Becs Becs doughnuts wubby Chlo Chlo," Beca fires back after she swallows the treat, which translates to, "No, I don't" and it makes Chloe pause immediately, staring piercingly back at her. Yet those dark blues focus on the green weeping willow leaves swaying with the wind instead, unable to look at her best friend straight in the eye.

"Becs Becs doughnuts wubby Chlo Chlo?" the redhead asks in a very serious tone and it almost sounds like it's heading into the brink of disappointment and sadness.

The awaited reply comes quietly and in the most awkward like Beca way. It's said with much difficulty after she swallows hard and is barely even audible. Not if you are a vampire though. She does it while glancing briefly at Chloe before looking away afterwards just as quick because flowery words like this aren't something she's used to saying.

"Becs Becs… munchies wubb Chlo Chlo, stars van cosmos,"

 _I love you…very much, always and forever._

Because when she says it, she means it with all her _heart_.

* * *

 **8 years later**

"It's beautiful," Chloe gasps as her baby blues widen at the sight of fireflies floating all around them. The difference with these fireflies from the ordinary fireflies is its glow. Instead of a bright yellow colour theirs glowed violet lights. Even more amazing was the fact that there were a couple of light blues and reds mixed in a sea of different shades of violet as well. The beautiful glow compliments the dark forest so well. It's very mesmerizing, almost romantic actually.

"We don't have time for this shit," Beca cuts in as she passes by Chloe and harshly swats the fireflies out of her way.

Beca Mitchell, the new and rightful leader of the royal council and of the whole vampire race, the person who obviously holds the highest power. Beca, her ex-best friend for almost four years until Chloe decided to destroy everything. Of course, the universe decides that it's time to get them stuck with each other and in the Winter Forest of all places.

On a side note, _admittedly,_ Beca also happens to be an ex-crush back in high school, junior year. Nobody knew about it, not even Aubrey, since it was a very brief thing. Chloe had gotten over it when the bullying started after that kissing slash annual grand race relay incident. Sometimes she does wonder if she had let Beca win instead. The outcome may have been different. Darius wouldn't have left in disappointment, Beca wouldn't have targeted her all throughout her last years in high school and maybe Chloe could've started to fix what needed fixing instead of being mentally and emotionally tortured by Beca.

Beca Mitchell, the one whom she vows to set things right with. Chloe had meant it, repairing the friendship they lost and staying true to the promises they made before their secret little world broke and fell apart. Now that she knows that there might still be hope. As it seems that there is still a, even if only small, part of Beca that still cares about that broken friendship, Chloe is willing to continue her plan to get her best friend back.

It's just that it'd only be easier if Beca wasn't being rude and basically the worst companion in the world. It's like her big bad alter ego has suddenly taken over since they started to travel by foot hours ago.

So far, they have passed through snake like vines that tried to strangle them alive, ran away from not so friendly bunnies the size of a grown hog—Chloe had never been more disappointed that she couldn't pet one, talking toads who kept insulting them—Beca was on kill mode if Chloe hadn't pulled her away, and then there was those huge singing gold fish that tried to lure them to the edge of the water where they would be eaten alive. Fortunately, vampires have higher tolerance to such temptations, even if they sang in Spanish and sound like Camila Cabello.

' _It's Camila, Beca!'_

' _It's a fat gold fish, Chloe'_

' _No! No! Wait! I hear Lauren too! It's Camren!'_

' _Okay, that's it. I'm dragging you away from this bullshit now, whether you like it or not. And for god's sake, stop crying!'_

Overall, the Winter Forest clearly has packed a lot of surprises that could put Harry Potter's Forbidden Forest to shame—if only there were unicorns in it too. Although, on second thought, the Winter Forest is too vast to rule out unicorns just yet.

"I'm tired," Chloe admits out loud in a weary tone as she follows Beca who doesn't look like any of Chloe's concerns bother her. So, she tries again.

"Beca,"

No answer.

"Beca, can we please just take a break? A 10 minute break,"

Still no answer.

Okay so maybe a change of approach is needed and Chloe is too tired to care whether it would anger the Du Pont or not. At this point, desperate times call for emergency measures.

"Chlo Chlo pawie myeow," she drags out which translates to, "My feet hurt," because they really do even if she has already broken off the high heels of her precious shoes in order to walk more comfortably.

Talk about sweet success, Beca abruptly stops, her whole body stiffening at the words and Chloe prepares herself for the hurtful insults like _'Your feet would be the least of your worries after those assholes come to stake you in the heart,'_ and _'Don't you dare talk to me with that disgusting lang—_

"Ten minutes, then we move," Beca tells her monotonously as she herself settles near the stream they have been following and drinking water from—better with bacteria that might only make them sick than be weakened by dehydration.

Beca's answer surprises her but then again it's probably because Chloe believes it's her own blood, which the Du Pont has consumed yesterday night that is currently trying to mellow out the snarky brunette when it comes to her. Which means, no matter how cold Beca is being, she can't entirely be mean to her.

Which also means, brownie plus points to team Chlo Chlo.

This ten minute break is a good opportunity, a really good opportunity to re-connect. _Maybe even try to subtly tell Beca about the 'method' of how she had recovered so fast the night before_. Thus, Chloe settles next to the Du Pont, who seems a bit surprised at the sudden close proximity. Chloe already feels her inch away to give them a certain amount—a disappointing amount—of distance. Chloe hates distance.

 _Not a chance Becs_

"If things didn't go down the way they had, what would you be doing right now?" Chloe begins, subtly moving closer to the Du Pont.

"Surround myself with silence for starters," Beca replies after exhaling heavily.

Ignoring the sarcasm, Chloe continues, "I miss coffee. I'd probably be drinking one right now. Also chocolate chip cookies or a croissant in Café Dawn. Probably chatting with Bree about school and what French movies to watch next," she happily thinks out loud before looking back at Beca to ask. "What's your favourite movie?"

"Those silent movies because I _like_ silence, you know, where nobody is _talking_ ," Beca mumbles as she picks on the small shrubs around them.

"You used to cry whenever we watched Dumbo," Chloe softly says with a faint smile at the precious memory. "At that part when Dumbo visits his mother who had been caged because they thought she was aggressive but the truth was she was just protecting him and then she carries and sways him on her trunk before they sadly part again,"

Beca remains silent and Chloe hopes this could finally open the conversation they both had been trying to avoid all these years. She was more than ready despite the discomfort of baring herself to the core. It's been eight years after all. There's no perfect time but now to discuss the wounds that they have been carrying all those years. _It's time._

"Then naturally I'd cry when you'd cry. We'd both be crying non-stop until ice-cream, lollipops and marshmallows get involved," she says with a smile before sighing. "How easy it was to just be wrapped up in that little world we created. Simple times," she finishes before facing the Du Pont whose jaw visibly clenches as she looks down at the flowing body of water up ahead with those empty eyes.

So, Chloe tries. Tries breaking into those high and impenetrable walls Beca had fortified and intricately built over time. She has to try, even if she has to force her way inside. She has to. She wants to.

"Beca, I—"

"Ten minutes is up. Let's go,"

Beca immediately stands up, starting to walk away. Away from Chloe and the box of their memories she is holding open in front of her, silently begging for her to take them.

 _I'm not letting you walk away again_

"Beca," she calls out, quickly scrambling up to her feet to follow the Du Pont.

"Beca, wait!" Chloe pleads, picking up her pace and reaching out to the brunette's wrist. When she finally takes hold of the Du Pont's hand, making her stop, only does Chloe feel the loud beating of her own heart. She either makes it or breaks it at this point.

"Becs, please talk to me," she softly says, tightly gripping on to the hand that remains limp and motionless with her touch. Being too focused on Beca, she doesn't see the colour of the leaves turn pink and the fireflies circling around them the moment she holds Beca's hand.

The Du Pont pauses before slowly turning to face her fully, "There's nothing to talk about,"

Her words only make Chloe shake her head in denial. "We do. You know we do and we've been putting it on hold for so long that it's becoming ridiculous! It's been eight years, Becs. Please, at least let me—"

"We were children, Chloe!" Beca spits out, voice raising up a notch enough to bite back the words she wants to speak out. "I don't fucking care about the past nor do I want to relive it again. What's done is done. I'm a Du Pont and you're a Vanderbilt. End of discussion," Beca coldly says as she retracts her hand away from Chloe's, the pink leaves turning pale and the fireflies flying low with their glowing lights flickering, the words spoken out loud creating a huge sting in her chest. The longer she feels it, the heavier it gets. So, it travels upwards until it reaches her eyes, wanting to be released. A deep colour blue painting the leaves, flowers and glowing from the fireflies as if it knew exactly how she felt, the colours splattering out the whispers of her heart.

 _I won't let you slip away from me again_

"You may not care but I do," Chloe chokes out, trying to quell down the sobs stuck at her throat. "You don't want to relive it again? _I_ am haunted by it every single day for the past eight years. I think about it every time I close my eyes. I think about it even when I'm awake. I am not done, Beca. And I know you aren't either. We're so far from done. You can deny it all you want but I know it still affects you too," she sniffs, letting the tears fall freely.

"You wouldn't be acting this way if it doesn't bother you," she adds, stepping closer to the Du Pont whose back was turned to her while the whole forest slowly lights up once again, the fireflies starting to dance around them.

"What I'm done with is keeping _this_ in. I'm done lying to myself. To you. To everybody. I want to—"

She doesn't get another word out as Beca suddenly pushes her down the ground. They both fall at the same time and before Chloe could comprehend what had just happened she feels a swift buzzing sound of what looks like sharp darts zooming past them. Around them, all the fireflies started losing their glow, the plants turn black as the forest slowly decreases its temperature, freezing everything around them.

Chloe only realizes then what is happening, too wrapped up in her emotions to sense the unwelcomed third party. They've been spotted and fear grips her whole system. If it weren't for Beca shielding her from it she would have easily been out cold.

"Run!" Beca yells out as she pulls her back to her feet and pushes her forward, away from the tranquilizers being blasted their way.

A loud bang resounds throughout the forest as Chloe almost trips and stumbles with the impact. Shockingly, the _evil forces_ have brought out the bigger guns and are aiming it near them, trying to put them off balance. Amidst the whole chaos emerging from nowhere, Chloe continues to run with Beca right behind her. She continues on through the unknown direction when she suddenly hears footsteps dashing at her right. A body emerges from the side, leaping up towards her only to fall short, a dagger flying straight to his chest and burying itself straight to his heart. Chloe feels arms holding her backwards to avoid colliding with the now lifeless body. She looks up to find Beca who then pushes her out of the way as another vampire charges right at them.

"Run! Don't stop. No matter what happens, keep going," Beca orders after snapping the vampire's neck ruthlessly.

Chloe shakes off the state of shock in her system as she struggles to get back up her feet and focus on not tripping. Amidst the earth shaking from the bombs being set off and the tranquilizer darts zooming past them, she wobbles a bit before finding her balance and running as hard as she can. Her ears were ringing from the blast but still she could hear Beca's heart pumping from behind her until the beating sounds grow further from her.

Fear fills her up instantly which is why she quickly looks back, finding the Du Pont being held up by three vampires. Another body adds up into the mix, this one coming from behind the Du Pont and putting her arm around her neck in an attempt to choke Beca.

Anger replaces fear and Chloe's looking around until she finds a glimmering rock nearby. It was almost as if it was sparkling for her to see, begging her to take and use it.

She bashes it straight into the back of one of the intruder's head just as Beca flips the female over and kicks another one in the knee, sounds of bones cracking making her wince. Chloe's target stumbles forward but recovers as he now glares at her with every murderous intent in his eyes. She instinctively takes a step back when another sparkling object to her left blinks to catch her attention. Crawling down the ground, her hands take hold of a piece of wood, knees scraping against soil and rock before she turns to swipe it with so much force. It hits the guy's side as he ends up bending down on one knee, face contorting in pain and so much more anger. Chloe, with her front facing the fuming man pushes her feet against the ground, backing away from him as much as possible while he steps at her menacingly.

He never gets to her though. Beca snaps his neck and plunges a newly acquired knife at the center of his chest. Broken necks don't really kill them, it just temporarily makes them unconscious until the bones heal up. Better to finish them off for eternity.

Chloe quickly pulls herself up back to her feet when she feels Beca's hand clasp hers, tugging her along as they start running once more. All the while she squeezes Beca's hand tightly like a silent plea.

 _Please don't let go_

Another loud explosion shakes the ground and this time it has them both falling down apart to the ground a few feet away from each other. Everything suddenly becomes silent with only a buzzing sound ringing in Chloe's ears as she looks around, disoriented and lost. Her fingers dig through dirt as she weakly starts trying to get back on her feet. She sways a bit and almost falls again.

"Becs," she calls out faintly.

A pair of arms take hold of her but it didn't feel right. They weren't soft and secure. It was just cold, calloused and rough. They don't feel like Beca's at all and before she could fight against it, a sharp blade is pressed right near her neck.

"Surrender or she dies," a low voice warns next to her ear. With the ringing in her ears continuing on, it feels as if she was hearing him from underwater. Also, having this person hold her makes her feel so disgusted and mad at the same time. She's never hated anything more.

"Drop your weapon!" he yells out an order and that's when Chloe finally realizes that he wasn't talking directly to her but to Beca.

When her vision steadies, Chloe sees the Du Pont standing still in front of them. Them, meaning a small army of other vampires, moving closer from behind with their tranquilizer guns all aimed at Beca.

"Beca, go! Just leave me!" Chloe desperately screams at the brunette.

"Shut up!" the man growls at her before lowering the knife down to her chest, the spot right on her heart.

"Put the weapon down!" he orders again.

Beca hasn't flinched or even moved an inch but it wasn't until she drops her own blade that Chloe's heart sinks, her head shaking frantically at the realization of what was happening. A tranquilizer dart is fired right towards the Du Pont's neck followed by another one on her thigh and then her arm yet her eyes never leave Chloe's. Those deep blues focused only at her, silently conveying a calming feeling down at her before they shut close.

 _I won't. I'll be right here, with you_

* * *

Motel Kuntz

"Somebody just kill me now, please," Claire voices out in disgust while Arthur shakes his head as they all stare in front of the suspicious establishment where a couple, who looked like they are high on something, had just came out of.

"I'm going to be sick," Stella groans as she places a hand over her abdomen. Nate then places a hand to cover her eyes from the offending sight.

"Better?" he asks while Stella mumbles a soft and uncertain 'Yes'

"C'mon, it's not that bad guys," Emily croaks out uncertainly before looking back at her for some sort of encouragement.

It's true that Stacie has had her lovers pay for a room to do some one night of satisfying _fun_ but it's best to take note that all of those rooms are of high class quality in no less than five star hotels or top floor VIP condominium floors. No matter how much she enjoyed sex with the hottest bodies her eyes could find, she was still a Du Pont. She still had class and cheap motels like this one aren't classy, even if they are only staying for a day.

"Let's just get this over with," Aubrey finally says. "We don't have a choice. The sun is about to bathe us all if we don't head in,"

The Vanderbilt takes a step forward, heading to the direction of the motel's entrance. The sight of miss pristine and always perfect, Aubrey Posen, heading towards the entrance of such a sleazy motel is enough to put a smirk on her face. She starts walking, hurrying up until she is close enough for the blonde to hear her.

"Never thought our first morning together would be spent in this dirty love nest," she teases in a low flirty tone.

"Oh well at least one of us is happy to be in her natural habitat. Congratulations, you made it home, it seems," Aubrey replies, eyes straight ahead as she continues to walk. "Maybe you can tell your people to clean up their disgusting bodily fluids before we enter,"

"You wound me, Aubrey," she pouts, putting a hand on her chest in mock hurt. "For someone who hates bodily fluids, your tongue says otherwise. May I just remind you how much you seemed to enjoy swapping saliva with—"

"How about we all just shut up and mind our own business instead of triggering people with their worst memories?" Aubrey quickly cuts her off, her legs walking faster to get away from her presence. She smirks before schooling back her features to a serious expression. Jesse is already getting suspicious of her actions as it is.

Oh but she just can't help it. It's just too fun, playing with the uptight Vanderbilt.

Besides, she's never seen Aubrey this awkward before as she tries to book rooms in a motel. It's all about confidence with this particular Vanderbilt and embarrassing moments like this make her wish she had her phone with her. Only the twins and Stella had brought their phones as they've been posting on social media when the unfortunate turn of events happened. On the Vanderbilts side, it's Aubrey and Scott who has got their phones with them. Unfortunately, all devices are low on battery and are in need of charging. Which is one of the reason why this motel, no matter how cheap and _dirty_ , is their only hope and safe haven.

It's so cheap that Aubrey easily pays for one whole floor because she says she'd rather not hear any drunken couples and horny teenagers going at it all day. She also has every room in that specific floor cleaned up and the establishment is willing to do just that if it means having the Vanderbilt showering them dollars with just a snap of her fingers. Having Aubrey pay is a fair deal since they, the Du Ponts, had bought all the food, gallons of water and other necessary items, and by necessary meaning, weapons, they'd need when they passed through several shops earlier.

It may all seem so cordial and civil with how well they seem to be working together but in reality a couple of fights almost broke out since they left the diner. Arthur and Nate almost got into a fight over the food they were cooking if Jesse hadn't stopped them, Claire almost slapped Nick over some lewd comment—it's no question that he'd slap her back if she did because as he says, _'she's the only exception'_. Had it not been for Scott intervening a slap fest would've broken out. Then there's Aubrey throwing fiery daggers at every teasing comment she throws. A couple more arguments keep popping out of nowhere for the smallest of things but overall, it is better than expected and nobody has lost an eye or broken a finger _yet_.

The same cannot be said however, if Tom, Beca and Chloe had been with them. Surely Tom and Nick are going to be killing each other five seconds after they all met up. While Beca and Chloe are going to be cooking up the third world war with all that tension— _sexy tension._ Of course, Stacie isn't dumb when it comes to reading between the lines and those two have a _lot_ of unresolved tension, no matter how much Beca denies it.

There's something those two are keeping and she is going to find out about it just as she had found out about Scott and Emily throwing pathetic heart eyes at each other from across the room right this very moment.

They've all decided to eat at Aubrey and Claire's room as it is the biggest one in the floor and clearly the invisible line between the Vanderbilts and Du Ponts was still very much existing. Both families had occupied the opposite ends of the room as they ate and it almost looks like Berlin in 1961. Almost.

They did agree on a few things though. First is that they all travel south once the evening comes before parting. Second, a stricter ceasefire between the two families is forcibly sworn by everybody. And lastly, a pair needs to be awake and on guard every two hours in case those terrible people decide to travel this way.

Stacie's shift happens to be after midday, succeeding Emily and unsurprisingly, Scott. Snooping around wasn't really her thing but when it comes to family matters, snooping is a must. Especially when she needed further proof to her assumptions. Carefully, she walks as quietly as possible, a feat only a vampire can easily achieve. She stops just before the staircase where the two teenagers sat below. The Du Pont and Vanderbilt were sitting side by side with Scott seemingly drawing something on Emily's wrist with a pen. It's adorable and reminded Stacie of a time when she dated this art student who once painted her—naked. Interesting times.

She was just about focusing in on the hushed conversation both of them were happily exchanging when she hears footsteps coming closer. Turning around, she finds Aubrey rolling her eyes at the sight of her. Well, what are the chances that they actually picked the same shift? Ah, Stacie thinks, _it's meant to be_. At least she wouldn't be easily bored or doze off now that she has someone to annoy.

But first thing's first, Aubrey has to know how to keep quiet in times like this when she is trying to gain precious information regarding the two potential lovebirds. So, she quickly pins the shocked blonde to the wall and puts a hand over her mouth to muffle the protest she was just about to shout at her. Putting a finger to her own lips as she tries to silently give out a warning she hopes Aubrey would get.

When she feels like Aubrey won't scream once she releases her, she slowly uncovers her hand from the Vanderbilt's lips. There's an angry questioning look on Aubrey's face and Stacie motions down the stairs with a slight tilt of her head.

She watches intently as Aubrey takes a peek, her lips parting and her brows furrowing at what she is seeing. She could almost feel the cogs of the Vanderbilt's brain turning and when it clicks, Stacie is pulling her away by the arm from the scene.

Aubrey angrily pulls back her hand from Stacie's grip as she turns to face her. "What in this crazy world is your problem?" the blonde hisses at her and this time its Stacie's turn to roll her eyes.

"You were just about to ruin a very cute moment over there," she says, crossing her arms as she leans her shoulder against the wall.

"Cute? That, whatever it is, is very far from cute!" Aubrey says, pointing over at the direction from they stood a while ago.

" _That_ , over there is beautiful blossoming romance between two individuals who deserve to find love, especially in a time like this," she defends while Aubrey shakes her head.

"I know what romance looks like but when it involves individuals coming from your family and mine that's when it becomes taboo," Aubrey points out before swivelling in her heels to head back to the staircase again.

But she doesn't get to take a step further as Stacie pulls her right back, "Have you been in love at all?" she bluntly asks.

"And why does it matter if I have or not?" Aubrey asks and Stacie's eyebrows are quick to arch up at the defensive stance the Vanderbilt is showing.

 _Oh_

"I see," she slyly adds, realization dawning on her.

"What?" Aubrey counters innocently as Stacie smiles.

"Aww, Aubrey Vanderbilt Posen," she reaches out for the Vanderbilt's wrist to pull her closer. A faint blush appears on those cheeks and it becomes even more prominent when Stacie smoothly tucks a strand of those glossy blonde locks behind her ear when their distance lessens.

"Everyone deserves love no matter how much Beca feels negatively about it," she explains softly. "There's no feeling in the world that can compare to what it's like to love and be loved. It makes you feel like the most beautiful thing in the whole universe and it's like you could do or face anything that comes your way," she continues as she stares into those blue-green eyes. She almost forgets how exquisite they are up close, like rare gems.

"And whether you like it or not, you need love, darling," she slowly says in French, and knowing that Aubrey has actually taken a French class, she wasn't worried about not being understood.

She moves even closer that she can smell the light scent of perfume the blonde always wears. "When the time comes that you do fall so madly in love, then go ahead and try to tell me that I am wrong to defend those two,"

She gently takes the Vanderbilt, who looks too flustered to function, by the hand to press a soft kiss on the back of her fingers, her eyes remained glued to those pretty pair of irises.

"Guys?" Emily's voice breaks the hazy atmosphere as Aubrey almost jumps away from her, jerking her hand away from her hold as if Stacie could burn someone.

"Hey Em," she greets warmly as if nothing happened. She eyes the younger Du Pont's wrist which she subtly tries to hide behind her back. However, Stacie was quick to notice a perfect drawing of a dahlia flower and it brings a smirk to her lips.

"Our two hour shift is over," Emily immediately says, clearing her throat as if to distract her from asking any questions.

"Are you… guys okay?" Scott asks, looking at her then towards his cousin who seemed to be standing awkwardly at the side. "'Cause I can still go on for another shift if…"

"Oh no, you don't have to. We're fine," Stacie answers. "You two should go get some sleep," she adds, ushering them both to their rooms before glancing at the blonde Vanderbilt who was already quickly walking away from her. Smiling, she hurries after her. Maybe she was just so far from done when it comes to the very important topic. A topic she was extremely good at.

Who knows, she might finally crack that hard shell Aubrey Posen keeps hiding behind from?

If this keeps going, this day is going to go down as one of her most _interesting_ days of her life.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Oh the irony.

Also, it has come to my attention that some people might be wondering why Aubrey is next in line to become heir and not Tom's sister, Claire. My bad, I haven't quite explained this clearly. The reason is because the Vanderbilts consider themselves as the most pure bloodline since they've only had unions between family and the other three royal bloodlines (the Du Ponts are certainly not a part of their list of royal bloodlines they can mate with, obviously, so three). This means that unlike the Du Ponts who marry people outside family and royal bloodlines, all the Vanderbilt children have equal opportunity to become heir. So, it all goes down to age. Tom being the oldest of all his cousins and the son of the Vanderbilt heir, ultimately becomes next in line. In his absence, it's between Aubrey and Claire who are actually the same age. In short, Aubrey is older than Claire by a few months which makes her next in line.

Thanks **Yuzu-chi01** for pointing that one out.

What else haven't I clarified? Oh! the Du Pont twins are both pansexual. So is Stacie. Aubrey's brother, Arthur is gay. Aubrey says she is straight but... we'll see. Chloe and Jesse are bisexual. Beca hates labels although she has once said she's bisexual but then again she seems to be leaning towards women more so, debatable. Stella, Emily, Scott, Claire and Tom are straight.

Oh and I love Camila Cabello and she has to be in this fic because... I love her!

 **Sa0621:** Chloe is the adorable little pest you want to hate but can't. She'll keep clinging until you bring her home. The only way Beca might shake her off is to cut her limbs. But there's no certainty in that one either. Sweet, right, got it- oh on second thought, nope, here have some more angst instead because I'm insane.

 **kimmania:** Thank you! I hope my imagination doesn't lead to disappointment and doom though. :)

 **Yuzu-chi01:** A sadistic Beca? Well, there's that thing in Russia, then Kosovo, then Colombia... and so many more dark secrets Beca keeps. Will it come out though? Maybe. Who knows? Oh and when I said uniting bloodlines, I meant, marriage (a legal binding contract) as in a marriage contract, a house (literally a house for the married couple) and a baby (yep Bechloe baby or any baby conceived by two bloodlines). And no, no extra appendages. I'm actually... not into... that kind of story line... and I respect authors who write stuff about that. I get it, that's their thing but for me... I'm not into that. I'd rather go for the mystical and magical thingy. I agree with you, Bechloe should be canon but what can we do when the movie world is run by hetero people who won't give us what we want and keep queerbaiting us instead! Then there's also the bury your gays thing they keep doing! If they don't plan to do it then stop giving us hope! Okay, I'll end my rant here. Well, keep reading, those slip ups might come back~

 **Comiiksde:** Oh god, you work at the lab? Cool! Do you get to blow shit up? If so, can I blow shit up with you? I want to blow shit up! More Emily and Staubrey, okay, got it! I'll try. And by the way, small hint, yeah something might have happened between Stacie and Aubrey before the chaos happened. It has something to do with French and bodily fluids. ;)

 **Kasia143:** WOW! I'm really loving this scandalous history 101! French aristocrats back then were disgusting, I mean 3-4 times a year? Wtf? And Mickiewicz is crazy. Oh yeah to me, Chloe, jealous or not... does things to me... those gorgeously blue eyes... those legs... oh god... this is why we are single! We fall for people we can't have! Beca in whatever Bechloe universe doesn't know just how lucky she really is. Anyways, putting our pathetic love lives aside, in a much serious note, angst gives you anxiety? Oh dear, for the sake of your mental health, I'm going to say that the next few chapters are going to be filled with a mixture of darkness and angst. Just so you can prepare yourself for what's to come, if you do intend to continue reading (pandas and otters care greatly about mental health, we put it first on our book of rules). Emily is such an exceptional child. Beca taught her well. Staubrey! French and bodily fluids! That's all I have to say to that. You're welcome! Hope you enjoy this chapter- even though it doesn't exactly end in a good note for Bechloe.

 **Guest:** 1,129 chapters. No, just kidding! I'm not actually sure. I type what I feel like typing and all these chapters are done weekly which means I haven't written the ending yet. I have an idea as to how it would all go down though, like bullet point ideas. Also, maybe until the song finishes or stops repeating. I mean, the titles. Read all the titles starting chapter 1. You can sing it... if you know what song it is.

 **Parziwolf:** Don't cry... yet! Save those tears for more incoming angst. Uhm, to vampires it is intimate. You don't just drink other vampire's blood without feeling some sort of... things. I mean, in terms of kissing it's not just a peck on the lips, it's French and so much more! Well, you're a wolf so... you guys probably find these things cute. As cute as your fluffy furs.  
Yup, the Tesla was Beca's birthday gift for her before shit happened. That and the fireworks on her birthday. Which is why she got to escape in it. Agreed, she'll be an amazing leader.

Staubrey! Yes!

Thank you for not stabbing me... in the last chapter. I hope you still don't want to stab me in this chapter. The signed copies and VIP passes might take a while but I still hope you get the girl! I'm rooting for ya!

I won't stop writing. I promise. It's a drug. I really can't stop actually. :)

 **Guest:** Glad you thought so!It's exactly like their personalities and character. They are opposites but they compliment each other very well. Thanks!

 **Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and commented/reviewed Midnight Sunshine! I love and appreciate all of it. See ya next week. Until then just keep being awesome and don't forget to eat as much ice-cream as you want. Don't let them tell you otherwise. You're amazing and you deserve ice-cream!**


	13. Then You Softly Leave

**Chapter 13**

* * *

 _Wake up_

 _Wake up_

 _Beca, wake up!_

The first thing that hits her is the soft dripping noise of what may be some sort of pipes leaking from above then the shuffle of heavy footsteps somewhere in a distance. Her blurry vision finds a blinding light slowly growing bigger until it bathes her completely. Then it's when things start to settle wrongly, she feels it in her gut. Her gut had only been wrong once. It certainly wasn't right this very moment.

She tries to move her aching body but she finds that it's impossible with the restraints tying her hands down the arm rest of a steel chair. Now, Beca is no stranger to restraints—not to be confused with sexual related restraints. That's another topic to be discussed on a much lighter scenario. On this case, as a matter of fact, she escaped not once, not twice but thrice when she was being held in such position. Unfortunately, whoever was behind this knows her so well to keep her ankles chained to the ground, leaving no room for escape. _Damn it. The cons of being famous in the business._

However, within all the haziness her thoughts start to fully focus at the sound of small whimper. She feels a fast rhythm of a familiar beating heart, filled with so much fear and anxiety that her own instinctively matches its beat, trying to softly calm it down. This awakens every fiber of Beca's system instantly. She jerks her head up, fists balling up as she finds those scared bright blues looking back at her.

"Chloe," she whispers, barely audible and only meant for the Vanderbilt's ears alone.

"Becs," the soft reply comes, spilling out of trembling lips and it stirs something deep inside her she thought she had gotten rid of. She had buried it a long time ago, burned it away from her mind and tore it away from her heart.

She doesn't understand it at all so she quells it down and lets the anger and hatred about the situation consume her instead. The rattling of the chains keeping her bound as she tries to break free from it.

"You know that's not going to work, lovey," a hoarse voice whispers just right into her ear from behind, a hand placed at the side of her head to keep her in place.

The second she hears it, her blood quickly runs cold, every inch of her body stiffening as her chest tightens. The shock turns to anger which evolves to rage in a matter of seconds. The emotions wash over too quick and too hard that she starts trembling, her breathing becoming laboured as the owner of that familiar voice steps out of the shadows, circling around her so she can finally see him fully.

Ştefan Sala.

He crouches down in front of her, almost kneeling as he smiles. The sickening sight makes her want to claw out that face with her own nails. A face she thought she'd never see again. Obviously, he has matured through the years already being somewhere in his late twenties, his dark hair, which had grown from the last time she saw him, and his stubble making him look even older than his age.

"It's nice to see you again, lovey. Missed me?" he asked in a nice tone, as sickeningly as the scar right across his blind right eye. A scar crafted by no else but her very own hands. If there was an art form she was very proud of, it had to be that very scar.

"How's mommy and daddy?" he asks with a mockingly innocent look, scratching his chin before pausing to form an 'oh' on his lips.

"Right, my bad, I almost forgot. They're gone," he clicks his tongue as he shakes his head and finally stands up, straightening his white polo shirt, another scar peeking from underneath those open buttons. Another scar Beca is proud to claim as her doing three years ago in a mission gone wrong in Kosovo. She'd been blindsided by his presence that she had abandoned her target and went rogue instead, blind with rage as she chose to finish the man who caused some of the nightmares in her head. She lacked control that time. A mistake that caused grave repercussions as he stands in front of her, still very much alive.

He walks a couple of steps in front of her, pacing around for a bit before pouring himself some whiskey and turning his attention back to her. "You know, I don't really blame you for hating me when I killed your mother. I totally understand the feeling. Beautiful woman, your mother. She wasn't really supposed to die but things happened, you know how it works, collateral damage," he says before taking a sip and Beca was tethering so closely to the edge, almost falling down to that side of hers that even she is scared of.

"But your father—no, _our_ father," he cocks his head to the side with a smile on his face as he points a finger at her. "C'mon I did you a favour there, didn't I? He wasn't really a good father,"

He then grabs a chair from the side, placing right in front of her before he takes a seat. "But you know what?" he says as he rests his elbows on his thighs as he looks at her intently. "You probably already know this but being close to death really has a way of showing people's true colours. You know, it's that moment when you figure out who they really are," he glances over to the side as if trying to remember something.

When he finally looks back at her, there's a glint on his eyes Beca already recognizes. He has something for her. Something that could destroy her.

"Do you want to know what Darius told me before he took his own life? 'Cause he'd rather die than give away what we wanted from him. Admirable, really, but do you want to know what he said before he plunged a dagger to his heart?" he eggs on, inching closer. The feet of his chair scrapping on cement as he does.

"He said," he slowly begins. "He said that, 'You think you've won? My death won't be the end. For every death, for every withering petal, a new bud grows and this time it's going to bloom more beautifully than the last. A perfect red rose. It's better, stronger and much more powerful than you and I. Unbreakable and untouchable. The crown will never be yours, you may take it, take everything along with it but deep down you know, it all means nothing when they all bow down to another because you're just the grass growing underneath those red petals'," he chuckles, looking down as his shoulders shake. When he gathers his bearings he focuses back on her once more.

"And then he said just before he chooses to jump to the dark, 'Finally, my love, I shall be with you for all eternity'," he scoffs as he stares back at her deep blue irises with his dark brown ones.

"It took me awhile to realize that he was talking about _you_ all along, his rose,"

It only takes a second, a wave of dark blood red washing out the blue and the white while sharp canines slide down to form sharp fangs, lunging forward with an angry growl rumbling from her chest. The chains rattle badly, looking like they'd give way but they don't. Of course, pure silver and diamond engraved in the chains, making it harder to break. The man quickly leans back, laughter erupting from his lips once more.

"I will rip you apart, slowly. I will enjoy every single minute of it and I don't care… even if you are a Du Pont," she lets out between gritted teeth.

"There it is, the monster hiding underneath the veil of royalty," he says before standing up. "Now, let's see if daddy dearest was right about you. I mean, you did kill half of my army in one night. That, itself is already an impressive feat but let's see how far can you go," he snaps his fingers as the door opens as three of his men enter, wheeling in a small table filled by tools nobody wants to encounter when they are tied up and held against their will.

"What are you going to do to her?" Chloe asks, panic lacing her words and maybe Beca couldn't bear to look at those teary-eyed baby blues, knowing well how things like this work.

"There's a vault kept underneath the king's room of the Corvinn Castle, the home of the royal council. Inside of it, every precious artifact about our race, all the treasures of our government since the very first of our kind, the crown, the royal seal, every list of every agent and dark assassin, active, inactive and rogue, a list of all the possible royal successors in line to the throne and every single secret and hushed controversy the council has quietly documented for hundreds of years," Ştefan continues, ignoring Chloe.

"It is kept behind three ancient gates only crowned royalty can open. But what everyone doesn't know, the crowned king or queen cannot open it by themselves. Because everything is divided between their successor to make sure that nobody can break into the vault. The first gate needs two different fingerprints which will only work if the owner of said fingerprints is alive, the second needs two different codes and finally, two secret patterns until you can open the vault," he walks, stopping in front of Beca.

"Fingerprints won't be a problem now. Your father has activated his and now we have yours," he looks down on her ring finger and exhales. "It took a while to get the codes and the pattern out of him, killed all of the council members for it until we threatened to behead the grandchildren. And now we only need your set of codes," he says as if it was such a simple thing.

"So, there's no need for violence now. You know what's best for you. Besides, we are after all, family," he whispers.

She looks at him before spitting at his face, "Sorry," she smirks sarcastically. "I thought I was talking to a toilet, your breath smells like one,"

He nods, wiping his face with a cloth he was given. "I heard your father toughened you up in Russia. Well," he exhales. "I'm not father and this isn't Russia," he says slowly in a deep tone while he rolls up his sleeves.

"Welcome to your worst nightmare, little sister,"

He slams on a button, sliding open a circular window to let the sunlight flood down in on Beca, weakening her as he slaps her hard on the face with the back of his hand, following it with another stinging slap and hard knuckles straight to her stomach as she buckles forward, lips bleeding.

"Stop it! You bastards!" she hears Chloe scream through the ringing of her ears, fighting through her own restraints and kicking at the people who are trying to keep her down.

"What is the code and the pattern?" the question comes again as she slowly sits up again.

"You know," she says in between laboured breaths. "It's not so bad being a toilet. Everyone needs a toilet. You've been so important to the whole world. A hero. Catching all that shit, you know," she adds, sounding wasted. Well, there's not really any difference at this point.

Incoming blows follow, much harsher than the first ones and all she could hear is Chloe's screams and truthfully, it actually sounds even more painful than the punches they kept throwing at her. It hurts and Beca didn't know anything could still hurt her like this.

Chloe isn't familiar of this part of the world, her world. She doesn't know any of the unspeakable horrors Beca sees and feels every day. The subject of all her nightmares. Chloe whose only problems consists of surviving college, figuring out how to acquire funds for her charity in a creative way, what to wear for the university gala, her performance in the play she'd been rehearsing months for and other mundane stuff that are all just children's play in Beca's world. Chloe, who lives in such comfort and protection from the things Beca faces on a daily basis, is now finally opening her eyes to what could scar her for her the rest of her life.

Nobody deserves this.

Especially not her.

"No! Stop it! Please!" Chloe cries out, tears streaming down her cheeks as she pleads desperately and unfortunately Beca could feel all of it. It's almost hard to breathe.

Sometimes, Beca wished she could go back in time to undo everything. There's too many but she was sure about what to undo first. The very first mistake she'd ever made. It was eight years ago, near the lake, by the weeping willow underneath all the stars wrapped in all the warmth she once was blessed with. She almost forgot what it felt like.

"Shut her up," Ştefan's voice brings back Beca into focus as she realizes that he was motioning over to Chloe. One of the men takes a piece of cloth which he intends to tie over the Vanderbilt's mouth but with Chloe fighting against him, one of his companions step in as well to hold her steady.

"You're the one who needs to shut up," Beca groans, eyeing Ştefan, "Your shitty breathe is polluting the atmosphere. It's already hard to breathe with Shrek over here farting all over place," she jabs, side-eyeing the third guy standing next to her.

Shrek gives her a huge punch on the face for it, clearly offended by her comment. But they always say that one should speak how they feel. She was just telling the truth! _People and their stupid insecurities._

Ştefan ignores her comments as he walks over to the table, slipping what looks like brass knuckles around his fingers. He then returns to her, grasping a fistful of her hair and pulling it backwards to look her in the eye, the sunlight above making her squint, her body weakening at the glare of the sun. At this point, she may already be looking like a bloody mess.

"What is the code and the pattern?" he repeats for probably the tenth time.

"What's the point?" she puffs out. "You're going to cut off my head anyway," she smirks. She would've given him a smile if it weren't for her cheeks hurting.

Her words earn a couple more hits to the stomach, making the room spin and the images all around her blurring. In between the messy swirl she seems to be spiralling to, she hears a lone guitar strumming a familiar tune from a far.

It's happening again.

 _Oh c'mon. Not again  
_

* * *

"Maybe we shouldn't be doing this," Beca say softly as she nervously watches her best friend try to pick the lock of Darius Du Pont's private office. She glances left and right, making sure nobody was coming their way before focusing on Chloe once more.

"This is a bad idea," she whispers, fingers fidgeting at the ends of her sweater as Chloe hushes her to silence.

Another tense minute passes and by some miracle the lock clicks open, both of them looking at each other in shock and excitement.

"I told you, I could do it," Chloe proudly as they slip inside the one place in the house that Beca hasn't stepped foot at. She may have gotten a peek back when her mother was alive but never really entering as it was the room where some of her father's most important meetings take place. Clearly, a room where every child finds boring.

"Alright, you are very skilled, congratulations. Now, hurry and tell me the name of that thing again," Beca quickly says as they start looking around the Victorian styled office.

"Epiphyllum oxypetalum and I don't think he keeps it out in the open. He has to have a secret room or something," Chloe answers back, eyes intensely focusing at the array of books before opening every cabinet she passes by.

Pausing to glance over her best friend, she sighs, "I know I'm French and some people have this misconception that they could just throw very hard to pronounce words at me like I could absorb it easily but you know it doesn't work that way so please tell me it has an English name,"

Straightening up, Chloe finally turns to her, obviously unable to find what they are looking for, "It is also called the 'Queen of the night' or Gekka Bijin which means 'Beauty of the moon' as they call in Japan or Kadupul in Sri Lanka which means 'The flower from heaven',"

"Or the flower so rare to find because it has suicidal tendencies," Beca jokes while Chloe shakes her head.

"It's rare because it only blooms once a year at night and wilts before dawn. It's a special, beautiful flower that takes a year to bloom and when it finally does, it gives its all for just one night. It's magical," Chloe corrects her and honestly, it still doesn't change the idea Beca has of it.

"Sounds like my cousins," Beca muses. "Extremely hyper at night then sleeping like the dead by dawn, yup, that's them," she voices out, unconsciously fiddling with the old lamp on top of one of the cabinets. It's so old that its light doesn't flicker open when she pulls the small chain down. What opens instead, is the wall behind the huge painting of a beautiful landscape.

They both gaped at the new discovery before Chloe speaks up, "You didn't tell me about _this_ secret room,"

Stepping forward to open the door wider to find a dim room, Beca answers distractedly, "That's because I've only just found out about it now,"

They enter as Beca fumbles for the switch, light filling the room instantly as they look around. There were old large books stacked perfectly in a tall book case next to a table where a bunch of important documents and maps were laid out, expensive paintings and polished swords line up the walls. There was also a clear glass cabinet filled with all sorts of seemingly rare objects, some kept in small chests, generations of heirlooms of the Du Pont family.

Beca gingerly opens some of them, admiring the intricate designs of heavy gold lockets, gems and very rare clock works while Chloe slowly flips through old family photos of the entire Du Pont family tree.

Running her fingers on a couple of items, Beca pauses to find another small chest box. It was at the very end of the cabinet and without a thought, she opens it carefully to find a vial of light brown liquid. She slowly lifts it up, inspecting its contents. Her eyes widen as she finds a small inscription at the bottom written in elegant script handwriting.

She whips around towards Chloe who was now pulling open a couple of drawers, holding the bottle up with her hand, "Chlo, I think I found the suicidal flower," she excitedly says.

Her best friend immediately straightens up at her words, turning around and quickly walking towards her. She hastily grabs Beca's hand to closely look at the vial. When her baby blues look back Beca, a smile slowly forms in her face.

"This is it, Becs! We found it!" Chloe almost bounces happily.

"So are you going to tell me now what it's for?" Beca asks as they hastily make their way out the room.

The only answer she gets however is a meaningful smile followed with cryptic words that would only heighten her curiosity in the most frustrating way as she wraps her hand around hers.

"It's for—

* * *

 _That's enough_

 _Wake up!_

Ice cold water stings every nerve in her skin as she jerks awake coughing. She feels a rough hand gripping the back of her neck, holding up her head. An image comes to view as she groans.

"And here I thought my nightmares were scary. You're so ugly up close," she mumbles, weakly chuckling. She earns another slap for that.

"Give me the codes and the pattern, Rebecca," Ştefan slowly says and it feels more like a warning. "It's no use prolonging the agony,"

His men move behind and Beca hears wires and equipment being set up. She already has an idea what's to come next but it's not enough to make her budge. Her lips shall remain sealed as the vault underneath Corvinn Castle.

Her breathing deepens as they begin to place metal attached to wires around her wrists, ankles and neck. She swallows down hard, eyes glued to the floor, refusing to look at Chloe even though nobody was currently standing between them.

Ştefan comes up by her side, leaning down to speak out the same words he has been demanding from her, "What are the codes and the pattern?"

She slowly turns her head to him, slightly trembling not because of the cold but because of the anticipation of what's to come next, glaring at him as she responds, "Eat your cake of shit, shit catcher,"

He pulls down a lever and bolts of electricity surge through the wires, coursing all over her body. She grits her teeth hard, eyes tightly shut closed as a new level of pain enters her system.

"You think everyone's going to see you as a hero?" Ştefan asks in a low tone, his breath hitting her ear. "That rebellious Du Pont girl with all her love for black leather jackets, women, alcohol and a magnet for trouble. You think you're going to leave some kind of legacy?" he mocks, shaking his head.

"Nobody," he hisses, leaning closer to emphasize every word. "Cares about you. Nobody would even remember you. Everything you've done," he slowly laughs. "All these years, tearing down the enemies of the council, putting a stop to every threat and saving lives yet sadly, I bet all they'll remember is a selfish, cold, ruthless assassin,"

He shifts, a hand reaching towards the lever again. "All this suffering you are going through, for what? For the good of our race? For our people?" he exhales heavily. "Why?"

She leans back, eyes boring right through him. "Because," she starts, hands gripping the arm rests as she sits up straight. "I am a queen," she smirks. "I bow down to no one. This is _my_ land, they are _my_ people and you? You're just the grass underneath my thorns and that's all you'll ever be,"

A lever goes down heavily and with so much force. Electricity travels as quick as lightning. A whimper escapes her lips as her eyes shut tight, the pain unbearable that she almost collapses again. Melodies and symphonies float around her faintly from a distance, rising then fluctuating as she remains conscious, her body twitching even as it stops and her head hanging low.

Her lips quiver as she tries to utter a word.

"What was that?" Ştefan asks, bringing himself close to her, straining to make sense of her mumbling.

Finally a word comes clear in spite of the tired and breathless tone, _"Happy,"_

Ştefan looks at her confusion as she slowly slips away, her mind switching from dim to clear, consciousness to dreams, illusions to reality and memories that cut deep into the center of her heart.

" _When skies are gray,"_

"She's lost it," Ştefan mutters in annoyance. In a corner, right across Beca, Chloe's sobs come to a halt, tear stained baby blue eyes quickly looking up at her jumbled words.

" _You'll never know dear,"_

A look of clarity forms in the redhead's face, the words she wanted to say muffled by the cloth they gagged her with.

" _How much I love you,_ _"_

"You are wasting my time!" Ştefan growls as he grips her jaw but that does nothing to stop her, eyes fluttering close and lips moving to the notes lingering in her head.

" _Please don't take my sunshine away,"_

His eyes cloud with anger as he quickly pulls out a metal rod, electricity sparking from it. "Give me the codes!" he booms threateningly, holding the metal close to her face, only inches away from her skin.

" _I'll always love—_

* * *

"If you aren't comfortable about this, it's okay. We don't have to go through with it," Chloe uncertainly voices out, twisting her fingers a bit as she anxiously looks at her. She eyes the tattered and rusty coloured book as they stand underneath _their_ weeping willow.

When she looks back at her best friend, only one word comes out her lips, "Binding,"

It sounds more like a question but she needed to clarify things first.

"Of the soul, yes," Chloe slowly says, nodding as she does before she quickly rushes out an explanation. "It's like the soulmate bond but not as deep! Well… we both hate parting for so long so… I just… I thought maybe I can do something to… solve it? Like, really _solve_ it this time. A-And this is the closest solution I can think of," Chloe continues, hands flailing around rapidly with every word. A habit Beca knows she has whenever she was nervous, anxious or too excited.

"My grandfather tells stories whenever we go visit him and I remember this one story of centuries ago, soldiers of royal families doing this sort of thing. They found it effective to have their best soldiers, knights, paired up together through binding in defeating their enemies. The brotherhood or sisterhood becomes stronger, the connection they have helps them perfectly eliminate enemies. Besides, it's like hitting two birds with one stone. Pairs that have this bond move as one so they didn't have to train every single soldier, a pair counts as one, so less effort. They just have to strengthen it to perfection or else the connection weakens," Chloe finishes, waiting for Beca's reply anxiously.

"So, you're saying," Beca begins, slowly tapping her finger on the book as she gazes in a distance. "That once we do this… you and I can communicate no matter how far we are?"

Chloe inhales before shifting closer towards her, "We can also feel each other's presence easily so no more sending cryptic letters that could get us caught. We'd know where to find each other already! And… well, if we practice enough, telepathy can be achieved, at least according to one entry of this soldier," she motions over at the book.

"And this… thing. Is it forever?" Beca asks again and Chloe nods.

"Unless, we try to hurt each other and separate forever,"

"Which is never going to happen," Beca quickly adds.

"I mean, we can't obviously do the sire bond like your parents because, obviously, we're both vampires already and we can't do the soulmate bond because you know… that's like… marriage," Chloe shrugs as Beca lets out a heavy breath. This isn't a small thing after all but then deep down her chest she already knows what her answer would be. Ready physically, emotionally and mentally or not, Beca only has one answer when it comes to Chloe.

"Okay,"

The Vanderbilt simply blinks at her, "Okay? You mean…"

"Let's do it," Beca answers without a doubt, straightening up as she prepares what is needed.

"Are you sure?" Chloe presses on, a hand gripping Beca's arm to catch her full attention.

"Yes, Chlo. I am. Are you?" she asks back, gazing intently into those beautiful swirl of baby blues. The redhead meaningfully looks at her for a while, nodding firmly before they both lay out what they need.

A concoction of different special herbs Chloe had secretly stolen from the storage room of her uncle's apothecary shop and the vial of the 'Queen of the Night' flower they took from Beca's father's secret room. There was one more requirement and this last one makes them both nervous to be honest.

Chloe checks her watch and looks up the sky, stars scattered beautifully in the dark night. "It's time," she says, breathing deeply as they both stand in front of each other, holding all they need. Chloe with a glass, a mixture of the herbal concoction and three small drops from the 'Queen of the Night' and Beca with another glass filled with the same dark liquid.

"Ready?" Beca asks anxiously as she steps closer towards her best friend who visibly swallows hard. "Bottoms up,"

They both take a drink, the bitter mixture making them both frown as they finish all its contents. Once it's done, they both awkwardly look at each other, hesitating for a moment. There was one final step needed to seal this bond.

Beca slowly opens her arms, a small smile forming in her lips and it easily calms down the anxious redhead as she doesn't hesitate to slip into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"Hey Chlo," Beca begins, embracing the Vanderbilt tightly. "You're the only friend I'd do this with," she admits and a soft rumble emerges from Chloe's chest as she chuckles. It widens the smile on Beca's lips.

"I'm your only friend, Becs," she teases, resting her chin on Beca's shoulder.

"True, but I mean it, Chlo,"

"I know, Becs. Me too,"

They dissolve into silence for a few seconds with only the sound of fireflies dancing across the lake creating a lovely yellow glow flickering around. Beca closes her eyes, keeping her focus steady as she tries to conjure a place within her that has never been let out on purpose. Her heartbeat heightens as her body welcomes the slightly uncomfortable change. It felt different yet liberating at the same time. Against her, she could feel Chloe experience the same thing.

When her eyes flutter open, the deep blue of her irises drown in blood red. She lets out a shaky breath, her lips parting to show white sharp fangs. Both of their chests heaving from the change, already draining half of their energy. But all that is forgotten as Beca's ears pick up the throb of the pulse on Chloe's neck, the sound filling up the silence of the place until it's all she could hear. The Vanderbilt's scent was very fragrant, a mix of freshly picked flowers and sweet smelling chocolate cookies. It was too enticing, too tempting and all her impulses are pushing her to take a bite.

Blood has always been abundant in the every vampire family's household. It was like wine that is always required on the dining table whenever needed. For over a century, vampires stopped preying and hunting on live humans for blood. In order to keep the secret of their existence, they've created connections to blood banks and hospitals in order to keep the blood flowing. Which is why Beca has never had the experience of drinking straight from the vein. It's the same for all until of course, you reach a certain age where pleasures of the flesh demand you to do so. It is such a special and intimate affair. Among vampire teens it's an exciting experience and is usually talked about along with their first deep kiss and _other_ _kinds_ of firsts.

Beca almost loses herself until the second Chloe's lips touch the skin of her neck. She pauses, an internal battle bubbling inside of her as she takes quick and shallow breaths. But she was sure, she knew what choice to make. It had only been one. Chloe has always been the only one she completely trusts. So she reaches up, a hand on the back of the Vanderbilt's head slowly pressing her closer as she tilts her head, stretching her neck towards her.

She feels warm moist air hitting her skin followed by small sharp pain which grows as Chloe's fangs sink deeper. She gasps, her body stiffening at the feeling. Her fingers slowly move at the nape of Chloe's neck as she sweeps off the red wavy locks away before she sinks her own fangs deep into smooth skin. Chloe gives a quick tight squeeze and Beca presses her tighter to her as the taste of fresh warm blood passes through her own lips.

It was nothing like she has ever tasted. Blood from a container was far different from right out of the vein. It was delicious, addicting and she wanted more of it. She's never thirst for something like this, not even water.

"Becs…"

Chloe's soft voice breaks her reverie as she finally realizes what is happening. She quickly pulls away in shock as they both stumble apart from each other, falling weakly down the ground, both disoriented and confused.

"Ouch," Chloe groans, mirroring Beca's heavy breathing. It's like emerging from the water to gasp for air after almost being in the brink of drowning.

Beca's heart is still racing yet something feels weird. Something's definitely changed and it's making her dizzy. When she finally finds her balance, she weakly crawls over to her best friend's side, worry rising rapidly.

"Chlo, you okay? Did I hurt you?" she instantly asks and only lets out a sigh of relief when she shakes her head.

"No, you didn't. I'm just feeling tired and… fuzzy," she says, leaning her head on Beca's shoulder. Leaning her own head against the Vanderbilt's, it takes a minute or two before Beca finally tries to makes sense of what just happened.

She hesitates for a while, debating on what to say first until she settles with, "Think it worked?"

Her question makes Chloe lift her head up to look at her and by look meaning stare really intently that it makes Beca self-conscious.

"What?" she asks, leaning away a bit from Chloe. If her best friend had gone crazy because of that crazy concoction and vampire bite Beca would surely panic but when something strange starts nagging inside her chest she withholds the panic attack for a moment to figure out what it is. Tilting her head a bit to side, her eyes widen in realization before they both blurt out at the same time.

"You're hungry,", "I'm hungry,"

It takes another couple of seconds of them staring at each other before they both burst out into laughter.

"Becs, I think it worked!" Chloe exclaims in between giggles. "It's a little blurry but it's there!"

"I think it's your stomach talking," Beca says, wiping tears that had formed at the corner of her eyes when they were having a case of the giggles.

"I'm serious!" she protests, slowly standing up as she looks down at Beca. She doesn't say anything and only takes a step back and another, then another until the distance between them stretches.

It's not supposed to feel like someone was taking away something important from her every time Chloe takes a step away from her and it doesn't feel good at all. It's like something being ripped out of her chest. She puts a hand over the spot where her heart is at the exact same time Chloe does. Her heart beating in a new rhythm as if it was matching perfectly to the tune of another. In seconds, she's scrambling up to her feet and almost running towards the Vanderbilt.

"Believe me now?" Chloe smiles.

"Yeah, just don't… go too far," Beca says as she wraps her arms around the redhead before mumbling. "It doesn't feel right,"

"I know. I felt it too. It's horrible," Chloe admits as they both walk hand in hand.

"So, we should never do that again," Beca emphasizes before a thought comes to her, footsteps coming to a stop as Chloe looks at her.

"Now we'll never be truly apart, Chloe. Forever connected to each other," she says and it feels as if she's reminding herself than to her best friend, as if letting it all sink in.

But Chloe smiles at her knowingly, an assurance that _it_ _is_ real, "Always and until the end,"

With their hearts feeling light as a feather they continue to walk until they stop once more at the same time, Chloe looking at her again already sure that she has another thought to speak out.

"Chlo, I think we forgot about the part where we actually don't live in one house and have to sleep apart? Several streets apart, to be exact," Beca voices out in a worried tone as their matching hearts feel like they are about to sink down terribly low. Chloe's shoulders slump for a while before they straighten up again as a new idea pops out of the blue.

"Baby otters?"

 _Sleepover?_

* * *

 _This has to end_

Beca's screams fill the room along with Ştefan's frustrated growls, the same words rolling out of his tongue for what seems like the millionth time. He paces around, patience clearly running thin as he angrily throws stuff at the wall and almost rips out his own hair.

Hours, it has been at least 8 hours and yet Beca remains resolved to bring all of the information he desperately wants down to her grave. Blood that had dripped down her thighs where he had stabbed her repeatedly, pooling underneath her seat.

But instead of wavering she gives out another smirk, "How about if you suck your own dick right now then I give you the code," she says in between broken chuckles. "Because this is all… getting so boring. Back in Russia, they at least have classical music and every equipment they had was so… so, brand new, yup, new, sharp, shiny stuff," she reminisces, her head rolling from side to side.

Ştefan who seemed to have calmed down a bit at this point silently walks back in front of her, a finger tapping his lips while his eyes gaze down the floor, head seemingly deep in thought. To be honest, it's a look that actually worries her. Being in the underworld business, you pick up small hints here and there sometimes and this look he is sporting doesn't settle well with her.

He proceeds to walk towards her side, crouching down to level her gaze, "You know the truth is, I believe you and I are more alike than you might think,"

"We thrive in pain and suffering. Our affinity to destroy and self-destruct, to spiral out of control in our own madness. It shouldn't really be a surprise, we share the same blood after all, even though we aren't entirely of the same species," he murmurs as he places a hand over her bounded wrists.

"My existence was a mistake. He was young and so was my human mother. At that age, you think you have the world right in your hands. It's all fun and games until a baby comes into the picture," he exhales heavily. "He left without a trace and for six years, even until cancer claimed her, she sought for him,"

"When she died I was left in the system. Being born half of something I couldn't even understand, acceptance was hard. The only thing left of me? My father's name," he laughs bitterly before gazing far away. "I was sixteen when I finally tracked him down, my hopes were high and yet they easily crash down the ground the minute I see him. He looked extremely well, holding his wife by the hand as he carries you, his little princess. You all looked so… happy," his eyes turn to her, years of resentment hidden beneath them.

"It was unfair," he laughs with bitterness again. "Then I finally found out that I was half vampire. I was stronger and faster than most people, my eyes change colour but I don't have fangs, I can walk in the sun even though I feel stronger at night and I couldn't drink blood even though I can smell it from a mile away. I wasn't accepted in both worlds. I was weird and strange to humans while I was insufficient to vampires. What vampire doesn't drink blood, they say," he shakes his head sadly.

"All I really wanted was for him to look at me and recognize me as his son and not some kid he owes money to. He promised me financial support, a house and everything else I needed but that was it. That was all, because I wasn't a _real_ vampire. I was a mistake, after all. A stain to his reputation and name. I was his embarrassment," he says in disgust.

"I just wanted a father! I wanted a family to accept me, a home to belong," he says, voice rising.

"And you? You, all innocent smiles and wide happy eyed princess without a single problem, you, were going to be his heir, to have all of what he owns, all of his privileges, all the trust, care and love belonging to you and you alone. Even when you were young, everyone looked at you so fondly, even eyeing you to be next in line to the throne, 'the next leader of the council' they'd whisper. Darius would parade you around for all to see, his pride and joy, his precious rose," he spits out.

"I wanted him to be miserable for what he did to my mother and I wanted you to feel what I felt," he says, looking up to reminisce a memory. "My mission had been so easy, getting in wasn't a problem. His blood still flows in my veins so the doors opened for me," he leans even closer, gripping her by the neck as his lips presses against her ear.

"Then I killed your mother to break his heart and for you to know what being alone feels like but then," he pauses, slowly lifting his head up as he releases her and panic starts to bubble inside her chest. She watches him step away from her until he stops, reaching out to tangle his fingers with soft red locks and Beca freezes, her heart beating wildly.

"You came into the picture," he kneels until he is with eye-level to the squirming redhead. "Chloe Beale from, surprisingly, the Vanderbilt bloodline. How scandalous," he mocks.

He unties the gag hindering Chloe from speaking as Beca's body screams to be set loose, "I knew about it, this little puppy love of yours. It was very obvious, how happy you still were despite everything that has happened,"

"However, like I said, you and I are alike. Truly, it's our curse to live a life of misfortune," he smiles. "I didn't even have to do anything and yet this pretty little bird still flew away. In the end, she left you," he looks at Beca as he says this, each word a stab right at her chest.

"You see? Nobody cares about us. They're all the same, Rebecca. All those people you are protecting, they don't deserve it. They don't deserve all of your suffering, all your sacrifices, they don't deserve you,"

"Don't listen to him—!"

Chloe's words cut short with a single hard slap from Ştefan. The Vanderbilt whimpers in pain, lip bleeding from the abuse.

"Shut up, bitch! I'm talking here," Ştefan yells before walking over to the table with purpose, rummaging around until he finds what he is looking for. He motions at his men and quickly they unlock Chloe's chains from the steel bars it was locked into. With rough hands, they shove her down to her knees in front of Beca as Ştefan returns with a large machete blade.

"We don't have to fight against each other. We've both lost everything. Join me instead, Rebecca. We're going to rebuild this rotten kingdom into something much greater. We're going eliminate all of those who hurt us and rule. We still share one blood despite everything," he proposes before focusing on Chloe, the Vanderbilt visibly trembling as he lifts up his blade.

"And as a proof and sign of my good will, I'll destroy the woman who lied and broke you apart. Such disloyalty needs to be given its just punishment, death," he aims the blade right at the back of Chloe's neck.

"Becs," Chloe starts, voice shaking as she looking up at her with tears streaming down her cheeks while Ştefan raises his brow questioningly.

"He was right about everyone not deserving you because honestly… you're one of the good ones, the _very_ few good ones. You're a gem one needs to travel so far for and place a tremendous amount of effort to get. But that's all he was right about because… it was real," she confesses. "The friendship, us, all of it and I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took me this long. I'm so sorry, midnight. I can't go without telling you this. I hope someday you can forgive me," she sniffs in between sobs, looking at those deep blue eyes she loves to look at.

"Please, don't let him win. You're not alone, you know. Emily cares about you, and Stacie, and Stella, and Jesse, and even the twins. I care about you, always have and always will. We're all rooting for you," she slowly smiles before looking down at her shaking fingers, eyes slowly shutting close.

"Lies," Ştefan interjects. "The absurd things people say as they face their end,"

He lifts the blade up higher, preparing to slice it down with all of his strength and end—

"Queen of the Night, 0, 3, 1, 9, 9, 1, 1, 9, 5," Beca speaks out, stopping him completely.

"That's the code," she says calmly, eyes never leaving Chloe. The shock of her words were apparent as the redhead looks up at her in disbelief.

Bright sky blues meet deep ocean blues as a warm feeling envelopes them. Beca could feel it. It was familiar, comforting and mellow. It had been eight years since she had felt this. The time, the distance and the pain had weakened it but never completely killing it.

In spite of everything, their connection remains, loosely bound through the years. Silently waiting for the time they'd finally, truly reunite once more.

Turning to Ştefan, Beca continues, "You kill her and you'll never get the pattern to the third gate,"

Lowering and disposing his blade, Ştefan scoffs. "Unbelievable, you're really going to give up everything, for her?" he shakes his head in disbelief. "You'd endure torture yet you easily crumble in front of her? How pathetic,"

Ignoring him, Beca proceeds to hand out the last card she has left, "I'm here to bargain," but then she hasn't fully presented her proposition when Chloe cuts her off, already knowing what she's about to do.

"Beca don't! He's going to kill you once he opens the vault! He is going to kill you!" she screams as his men hold her down. But her pleas fall on deaf ears.

"You let Chloe go and once I am assured that she is safe and that you'll never touch her after this, I'll give you the pattern. I'll even do it all myself. Then you can kill me, do whatever the fuck you want, I don't care,"

Ştefan dials on his phone and when it connects he holds it in front of her, "Tell them the code first. When the second gate opens then we have a deal,"

Beca repeats the code without any hint of hesitation just as Chloe bites one of her captors' arms and kicks at the other one. Momentarily breaking free from their hold, she rushes to Beca, tenderly holding her face. Behind, Ştefan motions for his men to leave it and let them be.

"Becs—"

"I know, Chloe. I _know_ ," she softly replies as Chloe leans her forehead against hers.

"But we all have to protect ourselves, even if all the pieces we have are broken. _Especially_ , if those broken pieces are all we have left," she mumbles sadly as the Vanderbilt searches her face, unable to fully understand what she meant. But there was no time to explain as Ştefan receives a call, a smirk forming in his face.

"I guess we have a deal then," he says before snapping his fingers at his men who move to pry Chloe away from her.

"No! Beca! Please, don't!" Chloe cries out, trying to fight them off and holding on to her. Beca stares down her feet, refusing to look at the pleading Vanderbilt. It's easier that way.

 _I can't let you go again, midnight_

It catches her off guard, turning her head towards Chloe. She could easily dismiss it as a hallucination but those broken baby blue eyes are enough to convince her that she did hear it inside her head.

"Go. Go home, Chloe. That's an order. My final order. When you return to safety, our blood contract will end. You're free," she says firmly despite all of Chloe's protests and cries.

Chloe's hand slips from her arm to her hand as they pull her away, Beca's name in her lips. In the end, Beca's fingers weakly wraps around Chloe's, squeezing it lightly one last time before letting go.

The last piece of Beca's heart, bleeding at the loss.

 _Goodbye, my sunshine._

* * *

 **A/N:**

Hello, I'm just passing by to slowly break your hearts then yell from a far a very quick "Sorry"

But anyways, I am thankful for a lot of things and two of them are certainly Anna Kendrick and Brittany Snow for giving us Bechloe. I am also thankful to you guys reading this fic! You all are awesome, really and I'm so sorry if I am bringing the mood down with this chapter. Regardless of whether the next chapter is continuing down the dark path or not, I hope you guys still stick around until the end.

 **Sa0621** : Glad you love the Staubrey plot line! I'd really want to write more about them so expect that on future chapters. I'm also glad you think that of Beca in this fic. I was worried that I might mess up with the characters and disappoint people. Thanks, this feedback means a lot.

 **kimmania** : Of course, my Stacie has to be as romantic as the French... if it is true what they say about the French. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!

 **justgottadoit** : Thanks, I'm working hard on creating the best for the story and its characters.

 **Yuzu-chi01** : Puppy Chlo loves Kitty Becs. A Harry Potter crossover? I don't know. If I do make one it has to be really comical. A romantic comedy, yeah. Staubrey is progressing and will progress even more, that I can assure you. Hopefully Stacie doesn't mess up and that Aubrey finally melts. I hope I don't mess up~

 **Comiiksde** : Emily and Scott are like cute baby bears in love. Yup, thank you unicorn almighty indeed. Oooh! Let's blow some shit up! It sounds really fun! Oh and yes French and bodily fluids in one sentence is going to be... quite... interesting... especially if Staubrey is involved.

 **Parziwolf** : Yeah baby alien language will kill people with cuteness overload especially when said by a baby red panda and a baby otter. I'm afraid Chloe's pretty sky blue eyes aren't going to work this time around. Stefan is blind in one eye so, that's probably why. Exchanging fluids... hmm... you'll probably... maybe... get a glimpse of it? I don't know, just keep reading! Ah yes, I like a very romantic and confident Stacie. A Chloe buffet! God, Beca's going to secretly love that~

Thanks! See you next week! Hope you had a great Thanksgiving with your loved ones!

 **Kasia143** : Eww. Double eww. Oh! I want to read that book! I love a good crazy and scandalous story especially when it involves rich, noble and royal people. Wished my history class was this interesting. Don't the Russian soldiers get sick drinking that stuff from the tanks' engine? I am so in love with so many fictional characters it's insane. I'm also in love with people who are famous and I'd have no chance of even meeting. I guess, it's time for you to read a happy one-shot now. Staubrey! Everybody seems to waiting for steamy Staubrey scenes. I'm taking note of all that. Baby Becs and Chlo are the cutest and I just want to squish them both. See/Write ya next week too!

 **Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and commented/reviewed Midnight Sunshine! I love and appreciate all of it. Write to you all next week. Until then just keep being awesome and don't forget to cuddle your otters and pandas! If you don't have one then... uhh... go out and get one!**


	14. It's Me You Need

**Chapter 14**

* * *

A connection being forcefully pulled apart is the worst feeling in the world. A renewed connection, after so many years of being close to dormant, suddenly being pulled apart minutes after it has just awakened once more is _worse_ than the worst feeling in the world. It's like falling into an ice cold lake, body weakening as the cold water drains your energy and your body slowly gives up. Your legs would then stop working and slowly you drown, water filling up your lungs instead of air, dying painfully.

Chloe is drowning and no amount of air can save her. Her legs have gone weak as she stumbles and trips that without the arms tightly gripping her, she would've long fallen down the ground, motionless. It doesn't help that her eyes had been blindfolded, the fear of the unknown making the discomfort and anxiety heighten. There's probably only one thing that keeps her calm.

She could still feel that connection no matter how far she gets with every step she takes. She could still feel _her_ , Beca, her comforting warmth and the familiar melody of her heart. It's only for a moment but she did hear it, her voice in her head for the first time, gentle and sad. It was a bitter farewell and Chloe had wanted to yell at her for thinking that. It can't be _goodbye_. She refuses to believe it. It can't be the last words she's ever going to hear from her. But she was powerless and weak. She fought and it was useless. No matter how hard she tried, she only ended up hurting herself. She suddenly feels like eight years ago, being eleven years old again.

They had dumped her in some vehicle and in a matter of minutes drove off to somewhere that to be honest, really doesn't matter to her. There's one place she wants to go back. Right by _her_ side.

It felt like falling into nothingness, just falling without end until she suddenly hits a bump. Literally. Chloe shoulder collides onto a hard surface with the impact and all she could hear next were shouts and screams. It creates a brand new wave of fear in her chest and she tries to free her wrists from its restraints once more, hoping to loosen them up. If so, she could try and break it apart, although not an easy feat when she was running low on energy due to lack of sleep, food, water and blood.

Another loud bang rings in her ears like car tires exploding underneath. She hears the doors break open making her whole body still. Strongs arms grab her out of the car and in seconds her blindfold is torn off.

"Chloe? Chloe Beale?" a man about his early forties looks at her intently, waiting for her to say anything but everything feels so distant, so blurry and confusing. Too much has happened that her mind slows down against the fast-paced real world.

The few words that register inside her head were "You're safe," and "Get you home," before she gets pulled along. There were people everywhere, armed and in tactical gear. The crest of the royal council, a combination of all the five bloodline's family crests, embedded into their uniforms. When she looks back at the vehicle her perpetrators drove in, she finds a body being wrapped in a black bag up front while another was being held down the ground.

It takes her awhile to adjust and realize that these people weren't going to hurt her. A warm blanket is wrapped around her shoulders and a bottle of blood pushed in between her palms which she drinks thirstily. Only when she almost finishes the whole bottle does she finally snap out of the daze.

"Beca! Beca Mitchell is still in there! They still have her!" she hurriedly says, grabbing on to the man who seems to be in command, she recognizes him from the Mori bloodline.

"Don't worry, we're working on it," he says firmly, leading her into another vehicle and opening it for her.

"They've been torturing her for information! They're targeting the vault. We got to get there fast!" she pushes on but the general, as they address him, wasn't budging.

"I'm afraid we can't do that. I can assure you, another tactical team has been sent. Our only orders are to get you to safety," he says before forcing her inside the vehicle much to her dismay. She could only hope that whoever they sent wouldn't be too late.

The travel was long and when they pass by Victor Barden, Chloe could see the soft wisps of smoke coming from one of the burned buildings of the West wing. It only felt like yesterday when she just had one of her normal semi-stressful college week. Now, she doesn't even know what being normal feels like.

Everything's changed and perhaps it'll never be the same again.

When they finally stop, she finally makes sense of her surroundings. They were at the heart of the city. So many people walking as they go meet friends around bars, clubs and restaurants. Some of them simply going home to loved ones or alone. None of them has had any clue of what is happening in Chloe's world or know even half of what she has just been through. It felt strange.

They lead her to an elevator at the car park of one of the buildings. When the doors open to the fifth floor, she finds vampires scurrying around a huge office, making calls and processing stuff in their computers. She was just about to ask where they were when she finds herself engulfed in someone's arms. It was Tom.

He embraces her for a while before pulling away to look at her in concern, "Are you alright? Aubrey had just called me and you weren't with them. I had a team search all over for you," he quickly says before greeting general Mori and thanking him for bringing her back safely.

He returns his attention to her, asking more questions and all she did was nod or shake her head. She doesn't get to say more as he is being called away again. Apparently, not all the original council members were killed. A few had escaped and are now working together to regain back their power and defeat the rebels.

In the meantime, Chloe gets ushered to another floor where there are fancy private rooms for her to eat, rest and clean up. All the while she feels numb to everything and gazing off far into nothing. She doesn't even feel like eating much. Looking at the door of her room, her mind becomes set as she rushes out with a purpose. A guy who had been guarding her tries to stop her but she keeps going until she reaches the stairs of the fire exit down to the fifth floor.

"I need to see Tom, now," she demands the guard at the door of the main control room. He looks uncertainly at his companions before letting her in.

Inside, she sees people shuffling and typing around hurriedly in front of large screen with numerous cameras, from Victor Barden to the Corvinn Castle in Romania. Looking around, she finds a private meeting room where, she can see through half its glass walls, the members of the council seemingly in the middle of an argument, Tom, her relatives, the other elites and non-elite representatives included. She could even make out Emily's father among them.

She enters the room, catching a bit of the heated discussion for the first time.

"We are talking about a threat that could end everything!" the council member from the Ortega bloodline, Lucas Ortega was saying, everyone's focus too intent on the issue to notice Chloe's presence.

"Exactly! We are too late. They have her now and are heading to Romania as we speak. We only have hours left," another council member adds in, a Vanderbilt and one of Chloe's uncles.

"Still! Engaging a missile towards that plane may seem like the easiest way to eliminate the problem but it also means killing the head of our council. That's our queen up there who, I may add, is also my niece and I will not let you kill her!" Beca's uncle and Emily's father, Ivan Du Pont-Stein, says in an angry tone as he stands before them. Looking at him closely, anyone could easily spot his tired eyes and weary face, events from the past 48 hours taking its toll on him.

Chloe doesn't blame him. She wonders at this point if Emily and the others had made it safely. It has also occurred to her that they are talking about Romania and a plane which confuses her for a while until she looks out on the large screen once more. Multiple split screens showed live video feeds of both of Bucharest's Henri Coandă International Airport and Baneasa International Airport while the others showed the chaos in Corvinn Castle, its front structure torn apart and burning.

Beca's fingerprints are needed to completely open the gates leading to the vault. The vault which holds everything about their entire race, documents that could change the whole system of their government, the hierarchy and the crown itself. The vault which happens to be in Romania underneath the heart of the Corvinn Castle.

Chloe's mind runs a thousand miles per minute as she connects everything all together until it slams on the breaks at the mention of Beca's name, "He would have to make Beca sign a royal decree to hail him king. Then it'd take more than half of the council members' blood smudged on that document to verify it and we all know that more than half of our council is already either dead or held against their will inside that castle!" Chloe's uncle explains his argument.

"Therefore, we have no choice! It's either the life of one versus the life of thousands. If we do not blow that plane up we are going to be forced to bow down before a new regime and it is one that neither of us will like. You've seen what they've done. Men, women, children, murdered ruthlessly and in case you aren't aware all of the elite bloodlines are on the top of his death list," he sits down slowly, resting his case as the others remained quiet while the Du Ponts shake their head, ready to contest to every word.

"I won't let you touch that plane!" Chloe firmly declares before any of them could even utter their defense, every head whipping towards her direction.

At the sight of her, Tom quickly stands up from his seat, looking at her in surprise before glancing at his father, "I'm sorry, she's a little disoriented," he mumbles, tripping over his words before walking towards her.

"Chlo, you can't be here—"

Ignoring him, she pushes him aside before walking towards Tom's father, Rafaele Vanderbilt. "The only reason why that plane is up in the air is because she chose to give them what they want in exchange for _my_ life," tears begin to well up in her eyes once more at the terrors of all that had happened, all that she has witnessed first-hand.

 _None of them would ever understand what it feels like_

"She endured everything, all of the horrible things they did to her. She went through it all to protect all of you, for years! All that she has done to maintain the peace and to be nineteen years old at that! She attends the same college some of your children or grandchildren attend to. Think about that for a second," she turns to the others, looking at each one of their faces.

"She's willing to die for all of you and you're not even going to at least try? She wouldn't have given it up if I wasn't there because that's Beca, she's selfless and giving despite of what you all might think. Because of that, I may not fully know her plan but I don't think she's going to open that vault. She lied to them," she swallows hard, a million thoughts running in her mind at this point.

"I saw it in her eyes… I could see it. I know that look. I know… it's suicide," her voice cracks, a sob escaping her lips. She tries to quell it down before looking up at everyone in the room, determination evident in her face.

"You want the easy way out? You want to kill her? Then go ahead and kill me too! Because until the sun, the moon and all the stars fall down from sky only then shall I bow down to a new king," she states, proudly holding her head up through the deafening silence of the room as she wipes her tears with the back of her hand.

She meant every word she said and if Beca were to die… she doesn't even want to think about it. A connection, no matter what kind of connection it is, severed by death is unbearable and if violence is involved in it, recovery for the remaining loved ones is close to impossible. Even the strongest of them all, Darius Du Pont, succumbed to the effects of it, permanently damaging him, mind, body, heart and _soul_. It's no surprise how easily he chose death as soon as he saw a chance.

"I am with her," Ivan finally speaks up, laying down his decision with the other Du Ponts present. "I vote that plane remains unharmed,"

"Our morals dictate that this debate no longer needs to be prolonged any further," Sorina Niculae follows, head held high as she speaks. "The council has always sworn to protect its leader and all our people. Therefore, the Niculae bloodline places its vote in favour of protecting our queen and our people," she finished as her relatives nod in agreement. Chloe could only look at her gratefully until the Mori bloodline finalizes their decision.

"There is no honour, bravery or loyalty if we choose to release that missile. We, from the Mori bloodline are very particular with such things. Our decision is to stand behind our queen," Kumiko Mori declares, giving a small smile over at the grateful Du Ponts then at Chloe.

The Ortegas look at each other before sighing and nodding their heads as they come to a decision, "There is no denying how much we admire the late king, the former head of the council. We cannot also deny all of what Rebecca Olivia Du Pont has contributed for us all these years and therefore has our respect. She is right," he motions at her as he continues. "We cannot… let fear cloud our morals," he slowly says before turning to the council representatives of the non-elite bloodlines and their representative, Benjamin Abbot.

"We are for hope, peace and unity among all. We do not want our children and grandchildren to look upon this day and learn about the cowardly acts we have surrendered to. We also need them to look up to a leader who is worth fighting for and alongside with. From the accounts we've heard in this room, we believe that Rebecca Olivia Mitchell-Du Pont is the leader we all need in these terrible times,"

Chloe finally fixes her eyes towards her uncle who clenches his jaw. It takes a while before he could utter a single word but one look to the rest of the Vanderbilts, he finally gives out his answer, one that could either break or lift Chloe's heart.

"As the temporary head of council, I order the launch," he pauses before exhaling out another heavy breath, "To be cancelled,"

Letting out a sigh of relief she didn't know she was holding, Chloe holds on to the seat near her for stability, her legs weakening after exerting so much passion and energy into a cause she cannot afford to lose. Now the whole council finally and truly recognizes Beca as their queen and it is enough to make her want to sob out loud and release the heaviness in her chest.

Years and years of pain, sweat, blood and tears, if only Beca knew right at this moment she has the whole council and basically everyone behind her back. She wasn't alone and Chloe made sure of it, solidifying her promise at this council meeting.

"Just hang in there, Becs," she whispers when she stands in the middle of the control room, looking up at the multiple split screens. Next to her, Tom stands, eyes up on the large screen as well, an awkward tension floating between them but Chloe has to put that on hold for later.

It's been hours and the plane is expected to land in any of the Bucharest airports anytime soon. Everyone from the original council and the newly appointed members all stood breathlessly as they await reports from their people, all their best soldiers on stand-by.

Chloe hadn't been able to sleep at all. Every time she closes her eyes nightmares haunt her, a mixture of the ones she's witnessed in the hands of that sadistic man and the ones that distort all her hopes into the worst possible scenarios. Only one thing was constant and it was Beca's presence in each one of them.

"Plane has been sighted," a report comes in as cameras pan into the private section of the airport runway. A white private jet lands as three black sedans stop right at the bottom of the airstair. Chloe doesn't even blink as the new set of images plays out in front of her eyes. But then what she sees next is not what she had been expecting.

When the plane's doors open only three men step down, the ones she recognized in the torture room, the ones who had held her down and helped Ştefan with all the terrors he wasn't ashamed or guilty of doing.

"That's not it," Chloe mumbles repeatedly, panicking as Ivan curses out loud and Rafaele barks out a new set of orders. Soldiers and agents scramble around the airport reporting out confirmations and more disappointing news.

Of course, it was too easy and Ştefan Sala has had his whole life planning this thing out that 'easy' wasn't a part of his vocabulary. He was smart and strategic just like Beca.

"They must have switched planes somewhere," Sorina points out as Rafaele massages his temples until another valuable report is yelled out, this time from one of their agents in the room.

"Sir, visual on the Corvinn Castle!"

The screens switch to different cameras and Chloe gasps as another set of black armoured cars drive towards the castle, opening fire on the battalion of their soldiers who have been camping out the castle in order to negotiate deals with the small army of rebels holding people hostage inside. Chaos ensues as the rebels inside the castle open fire as well and the whole scenario descends into a blood bath.

The armoured cars round about at the entrance, creating a wall between the castle and the remaining soldiers outside. Cameras immediately pan into the entrance as the doors of the vehicles open to drop off Ştefan himself, who straightens his crisp suit like he owns the place. Behind him, one of his men carry an unconscious body and Chloe's heart skips a beat or two at the sight. She'd know those dark brown locks, ring clad fingers and pale white skin anywhere. Her hand flies up to cover her lips as a sob threatens to break out. Beca looked terrible, dry blood splattered all over her face, arms and legs. The sight of her in such state makes Chloe's heart ache.

"I order all agents to Corvinn Castle! Do whatever you can to break down those walls and retrieve the queen. And no matter what happens, don't let them open that vault!" Ivan shouts out as everyone scampers to get hold of every able-bodied agent, assassin and soldier.

It felt like forever but when the tactical teams unload from the vans minutes later, the following scenes happened so fast, like a movie that kept going with no conclusion at all. All the while Chloe's heart felt like it was about to burst, fear and panic reigning over her. Watching on the side, she felt completely helpless. Even more so when the screens begin to cut to black one by one.

"What's going on?" Ivan questions immediately.

"Signals from the castle are being intercepted and cut off,"

"We lost sight of the throne room!"

"We're blind in rooms 1, 4 and 6,"

"We lost all visual inside Corvinn Castle,"

The distressing reports continue to pour in as the only screens lighting up are the ones outside the main entrance, the back entrance and the rooftop. Other than that, they have only the tactical teams' incoming reports and radio communications. Chloe takes a couple of steps forward, the suspense almost making her go crazy.

"This is general Ylenia Niculae, we are about to enter the castle's premises," the female general reports before Rafaele Vanderbilt gives the go signal.

"General Yuuka Mori, taking up the sky," a report comes on what Chloe believes is the code for the castle's rooftop before it is being cut off by several screams and grunts. The line goes choppy when the sound of guns fill the sound system until Yuuka's voice becomes audible again.

"Sky is clear, now making our descent," she confidently announces as banging of doors are heard.

The silence is broken once more as another alarming sounds of gun fire and explosions are heard. "General Gabin Du Pont on the south wing, rebels all over the place! We are under attack!" he yells on the radio.

"Shield general Franco Vanderbilt's team until they infiltrate the throne room! Now open fire in 3, 2, 1! " Gabin yells his commands as the sound dissolves into a static sound of non-stop high powered machine guns.

"General Antonella Ortega coming from the north, we have visual on general Du Pont and Vanderbilt! The route is too tight! Enemies are aggressive," another round of shots go off and being unable to see anything is making the tension in the control room double up in intensity. Ivan paces uneasily as they wait with bated breaths.

"We're being attacked at the east! Rebels are too many!" Yuuka Mori reports amidst blood curling screams before Ylenia curses on the line as they report of snipers.

The chaos continues for minutes without any sign of ending and Chloe is close to breaking down when the next series of reports change the atmosphere.

"We hear activity inside the throne room! Something's going on in there!" Gabin yells.

"Enemy is distracted! A possible attack from the inside! Keep firing!" Franco adds.

"Doors are opened! We have partial visual inside the room! Hostages inside! A fight seems to be going on!" Antonella reports as everyone in the control room looks at each other excitedly, hope rising for the first time.

At that moment all screens begin lighting up one by one including the one outside the throne room.

"We have signals on some of the rooms now!"

The cameras show total disarray and blood painting all the walls as vampires clash everywhere, guns tossed aside as bodies collide harshly. Chloe easily recognizes her uncle Franco, still looking as young as a 25 year old despite being 87 in age. Not really surprising as it'll surely be on his 125th year until he starts aging, as all vampires do.

Beca's uncle Gabin on the other hand is currently making his way closer to the throne room with his team until he successfully enters it along her uncle Franco. Some of the cameras are still offline, including the most important room of all and from that point everything becomes confusing. A loud blast is heard and black smoke is emitted from the room, worrying everybody for a very tense few minutes.

Until she hears it, _her_ voice.

Beca.

"I'm fine. What's not fine is that stupid toilet breath of an asshole getting away!" she says in that familiar tone of annoyance which Gabin or Franco's microphones are recording at the moment. The communication signals aren't stable as they cut here and there until movement is spotted from the throne room. Antonella emerges from the dark smoke assisting hostages with her team. It takes only a minute until the whole room sighs in relief as Beca steps out with both Gabin and Franco's teams behind her.

"Vault is secured and her highness is uhm…" Gabin clears his throat as if unsure whether to continue his report before weakly adding, "Extremely pissed right now,"

The cameras show Beca walk out of the hallways with the whole team of soldiers behind her. She carries on, each step filled with purpose, the fire blazing in her eyes as she is handed a sword on her right, which she doesn't waste unsheathing from its case, while a pair of wireless earphone is given to her on her other hand.

Chloe could almost laugh at how the whole control room fills up with music, Beca's earphones connecting to the whole signal line for some reason as 'Robbers' by The 1975 plays. What else do you expect from Beca Mitchell after all?

It's like watching history unfold as Beca leads them in the fight, all five bloodlines and non-elites working together fiercely for the first time in a very long time as they follow every word Beca says. It's a shame they are only getting glimpses of it from a couple of cameras because it already looks awesome from what they've been getting. It reminded Chloe of that race relay they competed in back in high school, their junior year, and how Beca's team Candrick performed amazingly in the field even though nobody really took notice of it back then. Seeing all that is happening now, she could only smile at how bright Beca shines at being the leader she was destined to be.

The room only tenses again when Beca follows Ştefan who seems to be escaping away to his chopper. A fight between the two ensues and it's clear that they both are almost equal in terms of skills. Whenever Beca wounds him, he counters and does the same to her. Words they can't clearly hear are exchanged and that's when things start to go downhill.

At one camera angle the half-siblings are rolling around the ground near the edge of the ruined walls adjacent the unknown depths of a cliff, wrestling each other for some sort of device that looks very much like a detonator. It's ironic to think how beautiful the view of the incoming sunrise was in between all of the war going on. In a second Beca gets hold of it first, struggling as Stefan grabs her from behind, trying to reach for it and press the switch. He starts circling his arm around her neck until to Chloe's horror, Beca's fingers rapidly change the position of her sword, the one belonging to none other than their own father, the blade turning towards her, right at the center of her chest.

Her dark blue irises fly up to the camera at a split second and Chloe almost thinks that Beca knows she is watching. Stefan finally successfully takes the device from her other hand but he doesn't get to accomplish his plan as his face shifts into that of shock.

Chloe lets out a scream.

Beca had plunged the sword straight though her own heart and out into Stefan's, ending them both instantly. They fall out of the ruined walls of the castle and down into the cliff from where Corvinn Castle nestles on top of.

Chloe's whole world spins, everything crumbling apart as a piercing feeling stabs her right at the center of her chest.

Everything slowly blurs until the darkness swallows her whole.

 _I don't believe in goodbyes._

 _Not when it comes from you, my midnight_

* * *

 **8 years ago**

"Chlo, i-it's not's true, right?" Beca trips on her words as she looks at her best friend who wouldn't even meet her eyes as they stand at the back of Constantine Albert, right at the spot where they solidified their friendship.

It was never like this. It had never been like this. Chloe wasn't like this. Her Chloe wouldn't even think of it.

"Claire… she was lying, right?" she slowly asks, desperately begging any higher being up there for it to be lie. But when her words are left hanging in the air without no one to catch them, a crack starts to form in her heart. It formed like the cracks on thin ice starting to branch out into more broken, jagged lines once you make the mistake of even breathing.

"You wouldn't—You'd never…" Beca shakes her head, sputtering incoherent words that are running a thousand miles a minute in her mind.

She reaches out for the best friend's hand, clasping and squeezing it tight, "Chloe please… please tell me it isn't true," her eyes start to blur, tears in the brink of spilling.

But tonight just seemed to be that night, the night where everything starts to die inside her all over again and this time there is no recovery, no one to lift her up, no saving.

"It's true," Chloe finally says in a distant tone, pushing Beca's hands away from her own, freeing herself. "There was a bet. I was confident in it. I told them I could befriend you easily and make you do everything I want you to do," she confesses without a hint of emotion or remorse.

"And I won,"

Her words kept ringing in Beca's ear, all of it sounding so foreign to her. She takes a few a step back, all their memories together clouding her mind as she stares at her best friend in disbelief. The cracks in her heart multiplying and growing further until it stops.

"B-But… everything we… was all that…" she trails off, tears falling down one by one. Her words have now resolved into a jumbling mess but it was clear as day what it all meant.

The end.

"A lie. Yes. It was so easy to do and it's been fun but it's over now. We have to end this. A Du Pont and a Vanderbilt, that can't possibly happen. You and I both know it never will,"

She was slipping away from her and a half of Beca's breaking heart is about to follow her. She won't survive if that happens and even if it makes her fool, she ignores it all. She can't lose Chloe. All of the other things don't matter anymore. She can't let her go.

So she decides to be the idiot of the story.

As long as Chloe is in it, Beca is willing to be the idiot.

"C-Chlo, this isn't you. Look, whatever it is, the bet, everything, I forgive you! Or if I-I've done something wrong, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, just please don't do this," she begs, almost dropping to her knees as she hangs on to the Vanderbilt's arm.

"Beca, let go,"

Her words slice down on her chest like a knife, striking right down at the center of her heart. All its pieces falling apart one by one with each step Chloe takes further away from her. So, she holds on tighter, hugging the Vanderbilt from behind to stop her.

"No," she sobs, shaking her head as her arms tighten around Chloe. It's a stab at the heart when she feels her prying her fingers open.

"Chloe… please don't go," she breaks down sobbing harder.

But it wasn't enough. She wasn't enough, not to Chloe, as she continues on the path were Beca won't be able to follow. She leaves and Beca is left with all the broken pieces of the remaining half of her heart shattered down the ground around her.

She should've stopped there but Beca was a fighter and giving up wasn't a word she is used to. Most especially when it comes to Chloe. Gathering the pieces of her heart, she painstakingly tries to hold it all together once more before running off to the Vanderbilt residence where she would get down on her knees to beg and plead.

Nothing matters at this point anymore.

She almost bangs on the door and is a crying mess as she asks for Chloe, earning shocked looks from the whole household, everyone looking at her in confusion. But when Chloe refuses to see her, she almost camps out in front of her room, desperately saying anything that comes from her heart, anything that could change her mind.

She must've looked like a crazy maniac, crying in front of Chloe Beale's door for hours that it has caused a great amount of concern to everyone witnessing it. But she wasn't giving up because when Beca makes a promise she intends to keep it until the end.

She promised Chloe forever and forever it will be.

Even if her father walks in, looking angry and humiliated at the mess his own daughter is causing at the home of one of his council members. She ignores his presence despite the warning glare he gives her. So, he takes her in his arms, forcibly pulling her away from where she stood to carry her back down to his car while she kicks and screams, Chloe's name repeatedly spilling out of her lips.

Her desperate cries remain unheard even as he apologizes formally to Chloe's parents. She continues to beg even as he drags her out the door and into the car where her sobs echo as she tightly clasps the last piece of her broken heart, the only one left. The one broken piece that holds all those precious memories and promises.

Beca was willing to wait. She'd wait until Chloe would come back to her and there, at the spot where she had left her, like a fool, Beca would open her arms to take her back.

But when her father pulls her out of Constantine Albert and sends her to Russia, all hope slowly fades. Anger replaces sadness and the single broken piece she held on to is shoved at the very dark corners of the fortress she is slowly building around it where it will be protected, unharmed and kept hidden from anything or anyone bent on destroying it.

Russia had beaten her up, body and soul battered from the constant abuse. Trained to be a soldier and looked upon as an adult, at the young age of twelve she had been forced to grow up with survival the only goal she had in mind.

She wanted to give up, body weak as she lay down in defeat, sad empty eyes looking up at the falling snow as her mind flies away again to the comfort of red wavy locks, dazzling smiles, magical bright blue eyes and warm hugs she'd hold on to forever.

"Are you going to give up? You're going to die here, that's it?" her father sneers as he circles her, a wooden sword in hand as he aims it right at her heart. "Then maybe all the people who left you would finally care? Maybe _she'd_ finally care?"

That slams her back down the ground again, her mind clearing up, pushing away all those thoughts as her eyes regain their focus.

"Wake up, Beca, nobody's here. It's just you and that's all who you can rely on in this world. Yourself. The world doesn't stop if you do, remember that. So, get up before it's all too late,"

 _Wake up_

She gingerly moves her limbs, her bare feet slowly pushing through the snow.

 _Wake up_

Her bruised hands fumble for the wooden sword she had been swinging around for the past few hours, slashing away her father's sword from her chest.

 _Wake up, Beca_

She gets up on her feet and faces him, both hands gripping the sword's handle as she looks into his eyes with a different kind of intensity, one that burns with determination and fuelled with a new set of promises.

 _It's time to stop crying_

* * *

The first thing she sees is a wall filled with her high school photos in front of the desk she used to work on back then. The earphones she had plugged in her ears before she unconsciously went to sleep have now fallen off, the music still playing from a black iPod that had been handed to her three weeks ago. It was Emily who gave it to her as she sadly says that, 'I'm sure Beca wouldn't mind you having it,'

Beca, the name haunting her like a shadow following behind her for weeks as she moves listlessly around. It was like she was only existing for the sake of existing. She could see Aubrey's worried looks on top of her parent's concerns as she keeps spacing out into the green scenery outside. How could they not? She speaks only when she is spoken to, is always quick to lose appetite, she barely sleeps and when she does it is filled with nightmares, of being in enemy territory, of Beca, of all the blood that has spilled in front of her.

Three weeks, it's been three weeks since that _day_ , that day when something inside her died with _her_. That day when she had collapsed and woken up hours later to her worried parents and despite how many times they ask, she'd only give out a simple, 'I'm fine,'. She stuck to that answer even as Aubrey and the rest of her cousins finally arrived. Behind them, the Du Ponts trail along and Chloe remains stoic as she tells them what had happened. She looks on as Emily breaks down into sobs, Stella excusing herself to run to the bathroom, Jesse denying everything he is hearing and Stacie almost lashing out at everyone. She watches them unable to accept what had happened and demand a flight to Romania to see it for themselves, Nick even trying to argue about it with his father and his uncle, Emily's father, who is looking as worse as she is.

Chloe had stood motionless through all of it. _Just as she had when she broke Beca's heart eight years ago._

That was three weeks ago and now she sits at the edge of her bed back in her family home in Maryland, mind hollow as she stares out into space. Minutes pass and that's when she reaches for the iPod, Beca' iPod, one of the two things she has of her. The other one being the stuffed toy otter she hugs every night. It smelled like Beca, her perfume, the smell of cinnamon and whiskey combined. She glances at it, leaning next to her own red panda stuffed toy.

Music fills up her ears as she closes her eyes to sink into the melodies. Sometimes she feels like Beca was right there with her, sitting next to her. She must be losing it when she closes her eyes and feels soft fingers touching her face gently. But they disappear once she opens her eyes. Sometimes, she would conjure up the image of Beca looking at her smugly and rummaging around the bottles of wine, trying to choose which one to drink first.

"Want some?" she'd hear her say until she blinks and everything disappears again.

Maybe it was her way of coping, maybe it wasn't coping at all. But it works and building up an illusion makes up for the pain she keeps suppressing deep down. Her tears were useless anyway. It wouldn't bring _her_ back.

So she taps into her ten year old self, building a world out of the imaginations she and Beca could think of. It's better that way. Beca is alive in it and that's where Chloe wants to be.

"I'm hungry. I want waffles," Beca mumbles as she leans near the door of Chloe's room, twirling the rings of her fingers. Chloe smiles faintly and stands up.

"C'mon, I'll make you blueberry waffles. Your favorite," she softly says before making her way out the room, her hand slipping into the brunette's fingers as she pulls her along, the sound of Beca's footsteps following behind her.

It was easy yet it wasn't permanent and Chloe knew that. It was bound to break and explode at her face one of these days but for now, for now she wants to drown in this illusion, to hide in this world, to be with Beca a little longer.

"Chlo, you need to get out, go places, talk to people, at least talk to me," Aubrey presses on as gently as possible as Chloe sighs.

"This isn't healthy anymore, Chlo. Everyone is worried, Tom is worried," Aubrey's voice floats around her, words not really hitting its mark.

"Well, nobody is as healthy as her," Beca sarcastically butts in. "I mean all that disgusting green stuff she drinks and eats. I'd rather soak in the sun," she scoffs lying down on the bed next to Chloe, an elbow propped up to support her head as she judges Aubrey with her dark blue eyes.

"Want to go to a club?" Beca suddenly asks. "Since they're so worried you're not getting enough _fun_ ," she air quotes with her fingers before rolling out of her bed and walking around it until she is in front of her. "Unless you'd just want to stay and watch some movie. I think I can sit through one of those cheesy rom-coms you cry about, just _one_ cheesy movie though. One,"

Chloe stares into the outstretched hand in front of her and then up at that smirk resting on her lips. She'd probably go anywhere with that smirk.

"Chloe? Are you listening to me?" Aubrey asks, waving a hand in front of her before looking at her in confusion as she stands up to walk into her closet.

"I'm going to a club," she blurts out, ignoring all the words Aubrey is throwing her way like, 'I know I said we should go out but clubbing seems a little… I don't know, too much. 'Cause I was just thinking of a nice restaurant or maybe a bar we could hang out with our friends?"

But all of those are cast aside as Chloe follows Beca out the door and into one of her mother's cars, ignoring Aubrey's warnings like, 'Chloe, you don't have a license yet!'

"So what? She can still drive. Nothing's going to happen, Aubrey. Live a little and go call Stacie back, she's waiting," Beca dismisses with a wink.

It doesn't take long until Chloe's lost to the blaring beats. She wasn't drunk but she feels drunk, drunk in those dark blue eyes gazing intently at her as they sway to the music. Beca holds her by the hand as she gently drags her to the center of the dance floor. When they reach a perfect spot in the middle, they dance until the Du Pont pulls her close, hugging her in the middle of the crowded dance floor, their movements ceasing to a slow back and forth swaying.

It throws Chloe to a stop, her heart beating hard and her thoughts crashing into memories that are starting to spill as she holds Beca tightly against her that it's almost hard to breathe.

"I shouldn't have walked away. I should've open the door, Becs. I should've—" her mumblings cut short as Beca hushes her, a hand caressing the back of her head.

"We can't take yesterday back, Chlo. What we have is now and tomorrow. And I _will_ be here always, now and tomorrow. I'm right here with you, until the end," she whispers as Chloe's tears start to fall. The heaviness of her chest starting to explode as her lips slip out the words she'd been dreading to say for weeks.

"But you're not… you won't be and I don't think I can keep you like this forever," she chokes out a sob. She cries, opening her eyes to find her arms empty as she stands alone in the middle of the crowded club.

She doesn't know how she makes it there but she does, crouching and crawling in the old pathway towards the old weeping willow standing at the edge of the Du Pont's garden, near the lake. There, she crashes down the ground underneath the tree, curled up in a ball as she cries her heart out with only memories to console her.

It takes her a while to calm down, resting against the bark of the tree just as she had years ago. The lake still looked so beautiful and peaceful that this maybe the perfect place to finally let _her_ go. It wasn't goodbye though. It was _goodnight_. It seemed more fitting because someday, somewhere perhaps in a different time, Chloe knows, they'd meet again. And maybe then, finally, she can make up for all the mistakes she has done.

"Goodnight, Becs," she whispers to the wind, the fireflies carrying her wishes as they dance around the lake.

She breathes in deep and exhales, feeling lighter than before. Placing a hand over her chest, she closes her eyes and feels, truly feels for the half of her heartbeat. It's still there, stronger than ever. Their connection after all transcends time and space, Chloe believes so and it's something she'd carry for the rest of her life.

Her emotions now calming down, she feels tired and heavy from crying so much. Her eyelids fluttering close as she hopes that underneath their willow tree, nightmares wouldn't even attempt to visit her. Now she understands why Beca loves sleeping at a place like this.

Here, she is safe.

The nightmares don't come, only reminders of Beca warmly encasing her in a soft embrace. Her scent flowing everywhere bringing a sense of familiarity that it wakes her up. She slowly opens her eyes, the sky wasn't as dark now but that wasn't what Chloe notices first.

It was deep calming blue eyes looking down at her and maybe this was the best dream she's had after nights of terrible images swirling around her. Beca was crouching down in front of her, face so close to her, body leaning towards her, a hand up against the tree Chloe was leaning on to hold her balance while the other hovers near her head. She pauses when Chloe looks up at her for a while before moving her hand again to pluck out… a leaf? A small leaf that had probably landed on her hair while she was sleeping.

Beca gets rid of it with a flick of her fingers before leaning back and Chloe gets a good look at her. This Beca had lighter brown hair that almost crosses the line from brunette to blonde. She takes note of the black military jacket, black cotton shirt and shorts underneath, and black hiking boots. This is certainly, a very specific and odd dream.

Reaching out, Chloe's fingers slowly touch Beca's face, warmth coursing through her skin while, adorably, Beca blinks a couple of times looking confused. Gently, she slides her hand to the Du Pont's chest, right above where her heart is beating rapidly in a familiar melody.

The same melody of the beat drumming inside her own chest slowly makes Chloe eyes widen.

 _Wait a minute_

Beca taps her fingers on her own knee, a tinge of pink adding colour to her cheeks while she clears her throat, shifting a bit awkwardly.

 _This can't be_

"Exactly, so move, idiot. This is my tree and that's my spot,"

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Okay. It's MONDAY! Which means I have updated late. Now let me tell you pretty people why. It's because it's the season when little wobbly introverts (like me) are greatly forced to come out of their pillow forts and into the harsh world ruled by extroverts. My days are totally going to get even busier in the coming weeks and on top of that my stupid internet connection has suddenly decided to take an early Christmas vacation. That bitch. But would all that stop me from posting?**

 **No.**

 **So here's chapter 14 for you adorable assholes!**

Oh. Wow. I didn't expect the sudden increase of comments. Where'd you all come from? Or I meant to say, you guys make my heart grow ten times bigger and I'm really happy that people are actually reading my work (and god all the kind words that I'm not sure I deserve! -secretly slides money under the table-). Guess I'll go take a deep breath and try to reply to all of your comments.

 **Guest:** Well, I was aiming for the heart. So, yeah, painful indeed.

 **justgottadoit:** If only I can double up the speed of my writing really. My brain goes like a million miles per second but my poor fingers can't follow.

 **ohsparemethebull:** You're passion, fervor and dedication is beautiful. It's art. I love it. Thank you for sticking with the story in spite of everything.

 **pipitz009:** Thanks! Hope this latest chapter kept up with the intensity and didn't disappoint.

 **destinedtobefree:** That's actually a great word to describe the last chapter. Thanks!

 **jlk215:** Somebody needs to point it out to them. And definitely unbearable. Imagine buying a really expensive sports car or any gadget, the latest model, and as soon as you step out of the store somebody takes it from you and tears it apart right in front of your face. Or buying pizza or anything delicious only to drop it down the cold floor right outside your house. Or my analogy sucks so don't take it seriously. No, Chloe does not have a bind to Tom. Unless they do the same binding thing she did with Beca or... _seal the deal_. For the latter, it's called the soulmate bond (a much deeper bond than what she and Beca have) & this is going to take a lot of explaining. To summarize it, a lot of vampires say that sometimes when looking for your soulmate / soul bound you just feel it. A simple touch, eyes connecting across the room or an electric current surging through their veins with just one kiss. It's like magnet. Once you decide to take the final step to forever, vampires then do the _thing_ and mark their lovers. Blood, mind and soul all connected as one. It's a marriage without divorce or annulment.

 **hakunamatatahum:** Definitely more surprises. Hopefully, this time they'll be pleasant and happy surprises. Thanks for reading! **  
**

 **kimmania:** It is very cool. I hope you like the latest chapter.

 **RJRMovieFan:** Thank you! It means a lot coming from someone who also writes great stories. As Beca says, Emily would be a much better leader than she is, way, way better. She is definitely a combination of Chloe and Beca. The aca-vampire-child would like to have both her moms back. **  
**

 **Comiiksde:** Is it? That's sweet! I'm glad you loved it. I'm also glad you like Beca in this fic. She's everything I want Beca Mitchell to be in an alternate universe. Well, a binding is forever so... Oh! wow it's your favorite flower? Cool. It's a very special flower, so unique, beautiful and very rare. I actually had no idea something like that existed until I read about it. Hope you got some tissues ready for this chapter too. Thank you so much! There are a lot of much better authors out there honestly and it's just... thank you, really. I'd really love to do that playdate thing (even if you are petty and won't share all your science secrets to me). If only I wasn't broke and could fly to wherever you are.

 **nellesalvador:** Ah yes it is. I intended it to be a dark story. But not too much. Thanks for reading!

 **theretheygoagain:** "Heartbreaking yet heartwarming" I like that. That's probably the exact definition of this fic or at least, what I want this fic to feel like. Oh there will be fluff in the very far future... I think.

 **HappyReader:** Thank you! I'm trying to give a hundred and one percent in every chapter.

 **cakedinmud:** Yes she has. And yes they do. That's all correct. Beca may have the worst reputation but she is a real hero with a good heart, despite it being broken and all. Beca represents all those people who have been judged easily or misunderstood by others. The bullies never go away. They just got older.

 **Yuzu-chi01:** Oh god no. I love Beca in any universe. I won't let them cut her apart! I guess I just didn't want to focus too much on the gore and the violence. In the end, it all still revolves around Beca and Chloe, and their individual stories that explain the whys, why nots and the hows. Hmm you mean Bechloe being the ones doing the torturing and being psychopathic murderers? That's another interesting story I might want to bump into someday. Yes, toilets are heroes just as Beca has said. Aww your poor dog. He/She needs snuggles and kisses. Thank you so much! I guess that means that I have to improve my writing further because I know you'll be reading it haha. Yup. Make it right afterwards. Got it. Umm. I'll... try?

 **Llvr:** I'm sorry but there will be more angst until next week. Oh and here's another dramatic cliffhanger. Why? Because I like making you cuties go crazy. It warms my cold black icy panda heart. Thank you! **  
**

 **Sa0621:** Well, I don't have words for all these generous compliments you've been throwing carelessly at me. It's too much! My heart can only fit a few of them or it'll burst. Also, I can hear you tapping your foot from here. I don't really mind the fangirl PMs. Please send me some. It doesn't annoy me. I live for things like that. Thanks for your continuous support to this fic. I really do appreciate it. **  
**

 **Kasia143:** Oh no apologies needed. I like making people cry. Just kidding, not too much. Just a little bit. Haha. I love all this raw emotion spilling out of my screen. Makes me happy to know that I moved someone in some way. It inspires me to keep writing. So, thank you. Yes, a beautiful tragedy makes sense to me. This is what this chapter's about. Beca does have a brother, an older brother. He is like 29 years old, I think. Oh right, I'll read those history books. It's like an entertainment magazine but in the past.

Don't shut up, keep talking about those crushes! Until your best friend starts ripping out his/her hair because of annoyance. Haha. It's the best revenge for all the teasing.

DUUUUUDEEEE I HAVE! What in the fucking holy unicorns is happening? We've been blessed. Our captain and her Snow loves us so so much! I bet if they give Anna Kendrick full control of the movie, not only is Bechloe endgame but surely, there will be a love scene. I mean her, 'Get Brittany Snow naked in front of me,' in an interview is already telling. But she's not in control and those heterosexuals have the power so... we turn to fanfics instead! See ya next week too!

 **Parziwolf:** Oh no! Let me just grab some tape and we can uhm piece it back together. Everybody needs a heart!

They were 11 years old, I believe. And nope those numbers don't signify anything in regards to the story. Personally, to me it does that's why I chose them.

I know, that song is like old but when you really listen to it, it tugs on your heart strings.

Well, I need to lighten up the mood because I can really hear hearts shattering down the ground and I'm running out of tape and glue.

Beca and Chloe's connection needs to be strong in order to communicate telepathically. I'd like to point out, that **they have never done it before or successfully done it in the past** and that parting scene between them was the first time it happened. The connection is like muscles that need to be exercised in order to be firm and tough. The desperation of that moment between them and the overwhelming feelings being spilled out after all those years of it being suppressed and dormant have somehow finally tapped into that telepathic connection, strengthening it and making it more powerful. Hope I explained that well.

My thanksgiving went well btw. Spent it with loved ones and lots of good food too! Hope you had a great one as well.

 **Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and commented/reviewed Midnight Sunshine! I love and appreciate all of it. Write to you all next week. Until then just keep being awesome and don't forget to brush your teeth before going to bed.  
**


	15. To Show

**Chapter 15**

* * *

Pain finally crashes through the high walls she's built around her heart, creating holes around what she thought was impenetrable and Beca can't do anything to stop it. The separation between her and the Vanderbilt whose screams she can still hear in her head even after they drag her away were weakening her. No torture will ever compare to this. All those years she's worked hard in order to annihilate any of her emotions and her ability to actually feel, gone in seconds as soon as she fails to control it from spilling out from the depths she has pushed it in.

It was the aching realization that even after all these years and after all that has been said and done, Beca still cares about that one person whom she thought she'd never care for again. _Because when she promises forever then forever it shall be._

Beca was not afraid of anything, she never has been for the last six years. Until now. She could feel a part of her screaming in frustration for the only weakness of her heart. The thought of Chloe dying in front of her easily knocks off the layers of masks she has hidden behind. Ştefan was right. She could withstand the torture for as long as her body can take but in front of those baby blue eyes she shatters in a second, her whole body numbing as she remains crippled from the effect it does to her.

Chloe Beale, the first thing she feels when she returned to Constantine Albert. She remembers that day clearly. The night sky had been threatening to release its wrath having started with a light drizzle as a forewarning. She loved it, to be honest. It was the appropriate welcome she wished for because dark, rumbling clouds reflected how much she hated being back into mundane life. After her disastrous stint in Kosovo, her punishment had been to take a seat back on the bench which translates to, going back to school and passing all her classes. It also served as her reunion with her cousins who have all grown up to be a much louder bunch of troublemakers and misfits. She wouldn't want them in any other way though.

Making sure they were all accounted for—because they've also been known to be escape artists like Siberian Huskies—Beca lags a couple of steps behind, watching them carefully while heightening her senses to any sort of danger looming nearby. It's a habit she acquired from years and years of being thrown in the face of danger or around enemy territory.

But instead of danger, her senses pick up a very familiar scent and her brows furrow as she feels _her_. She remembers cursing internally at that point. It was too early for her already dampened mood to transform into a ball of fiery rage. Although, there had been a really small part in the very back of her mind that wondered and is constantly wondering what _she_ had become and how _she_ had been all these years.

Her answers didn't take long to arrive as she walks in the doors of Constantine Albert. But no matter how much her eyes wanted to linger in the Vanderbilt's direction, her resolve to just keep going was strong even as she nears the spot where the redhead stood. It was only then that Beca wishes that the headphones hanging around her neck were covering her ears instead and the music blasting loud enough to serve as a distraction for her troubled heart. A jumble mess of emotions ranging from different levels of annoyance to anger clashing inside her.

Maybe it would've been better if her eyes never wandered to the glass shelves lining up on her right. The reflection of Chloe Beale suddenly turning her mind into a blank slate and all the disorderly pile of emotions quickly dissolving into a tiny dot. The Vanderbilt may have already been beautiful then but after five years, her beauty surpasses all of the women Beca had made brief acquaintances with during her travels. Those blue eyes were even bluer, if that was even possible, her glossy auburn hair tenderly framing her unblemished face and her scent so enticing, she almost gives in. She was painfully gorgeous from head to toe that Beca almost tripped along the way.

A part of her hated herself for it then. She should be hating her. Maybe then the walls around her heart wouldn't have started showing little cracks. The cracks which had started growing through time, threatening to destroy the walls she thought she perfectly constructed.

But when she assumed that perhaps now that she has survived being in the same room as Chloe that nothing can shake her further, the first prominent crack lining along her sturdy walls comes unexpectedly. It ran through her tight defenses out of nowhere, blind siding her, at Constantine Albert's annual race relay when Chloe decided to cheat—because no matter what they say, kissing your opponent is an attack below the belt. It caught her by surprise, her body freezing at the sudden bold move and for the first time ever since Beca had started working for her father, she lost. How could she not when Chloe's lips decided to capture hers and destroy Beca's whole world?

Beca had kissed a girl before. She met her in Germany earlier that year before her rogue mission in Kosovo. Her name was Natasha and she was a bartender and musician from Canada who travelled to Germany for fun but ended up staying longer than expected. She was Beca's first fling, first kiss and well, _first_. Eventually, Natasha or Tash as Beca calls her had become her special friend. They both loved alcohol and music, both wanting and needing an escape, both rejecting the idea of commitment and share the same extreme love for the reckless and wild.

But despite the countless nights of reckless, wild and, basically, every kind of kiss between them, it didn't prepare Beca for the earth shattering kind. The one that gets your whole body to stop cooperating, makes you feel light headed and drives you to the point of insanity. The one kiss that awakens a part inside of her she thought she killed. A kiss only Chloe Beale could give.

She has then labelled _that_ redhead dangerous.

She had been right to do so but unfortunately, she had no idea just how dangerous Chloe was to her. Despite the amount of effort she put up to destroy the Vanderbilt all throughout their last years in high school, every time she'd lose control, those baby blues keep haunting her, that scent constantly lingering around her and the imprint left of those luscious lips tormenting her night and day.

It was a perfect combination of hate and, no matter how she denies it, love.

So, she decided to change her approach to the problem, college would be different. Despite wanting to be a music major, she chose to take business instead unlike Chloe who chose to be an art major. Their buildings were far just as Beca liked it to be. She kept herself busy with countless casual flings, went to parties out of campus and steered clear from all the paths the outgoing Vanderbilt was sure to take. It had been great for a year and she was finally slowly erasing all the stains Chloe had caused until her second year in Victor Barden started.

Of course, the universe, as always, wasn't so kind to her when the Vanderbilt herself suddenly decided to barge into her world and remain there for an unknown amount of time. Which was why Beca decided that _the idiot_ needed to pay for it which then brings her back to destroying the Vanderbilt in every way she can think of. Not only had she managed to degrade her by turning her into a slave but to also make sure that she'd never forget the humiliation she'd bring upon her. Strangely, it wasn't enough. None of that fully satisfied her and the worst part was that it back fired all up in her face.

Because Chloe Beale was dangerous and Beca was finally realizing just how dangerous she was.

In a desperate attempt to completely sever the connection they had, Beca harshly banishes her out of her sight, throwing her out of Du Pont property and deciding to hate her for eternity or in whatever world in all the next lifetimes she'd have.

But no matter what she did, no matter where she wanted to go, all roads lead back to her. The night of what was probably going to be deemed an apocalypse for the next million years, Beca finds herself circling back to Chloe Beale.

Emily was the reason why she refused safety in some secret headquarters the council has prepared for such situations. By now, she had already deduced that she is most likely crowned royalty but Beca couldn't care less. She was no stranger to war and chaos and hiding wasn't something she'd even consider, most especially if she is now queen of the Corvinn Castle.

The right thing to do upon seeing Emily being shielded by Scott is to run towards their direction and separate them both. The wrong thing to do is pause mid-walk once your heart senses trouble from the other end of that very faint connection she had mistakenly and foolishly made eight years ago. Unfortunately, the rope she has chained herself to that specific Vanderbilt still remained intact no matter how many times she tries to destroy it.

Scott kills one of the masked rebels, protecting Emily before continuing to run away with her. Here, Beca knew she had to make a decision, one that she might regret for the rest of her life. But as the distance between her and her cousin widens, it is clear what choice her stupid heart has chosen. In spite it being a single broken piece of what once was her whole heart, it was powerful enough to drag Beca towards the very person who had shattered it.

Chloe Beale is extremely dangerous and Beca curses herself for being unable to speculate just how much.

But all hope is not lost as she finally shakes off the Vanderbilt's hold on her. Insisting that she save herself instead while Beca does what she does best, which is leaping into the arms of danger and softly kissing death on the lips. She even offers her fastest car and a huge amount of cash, enough to send her to the farthest part of the globe. She was almost successful. Almost.

When she thinks the end is near and prepares to take the jump, those bright baby blues dive in to save her. Beca then finds out that those same baby blue eyes would continue to save her every time she tries to step over the edge. And every time she tries to flee from it and run over to that cliff, she finds that those very baby blues, as blue and bright as the sky in a cloudless day, would cling to her and pull her back.

It's ironic, she knows, because it was those same pair of beautiful blues that once pushed her down the dark path she decided to walk on for the rest of her life. All that hate, anger, resentment and allergic reaction to the word 'trust' stemmed out of those eyes she had once adored and loved to look at. Yes, loved because she might not have realized it then, but her heart had already sworn love and loyalty to those baby blues ten years ago. Which is why, even if her hate for Chloe Beale has no limit… _so does her love for her_.

So, she decides to end it, once and for all. In her last attempt to break the chains that has bounded her forever to Chloe, she sacrifices herself because that's the only thing left to do. It was suicide and Beca figured that if she had to go, suicide was the only option. Better by her own than a humiliating death by some asshole's hands. She really was after all, her father's daughter.

It was why she withheld the pattern of the final gate at the very last minute, the intricate circular knobs and golden metal puzzle pieces of the massive gate underneath the throne room of Corvinn Castle remained untouched. She found an opening and took it, giving everything in what is probably her bloodiest and final fight. After ripping hearts, throats and guts, the small grenade hidden underneath the heel of her shoe all this time is finally being detonated and thrown. When she comes to, after leaping out from harms way, she finds out that Ştefan has escaped at one of the secret passages underneath and is now running away to re-build his plans.

Beca wasn't going to let that happen and unknowingly, she was just about to achieve what might finally be the only way to completely cut the chains in her heart.

It all happened so fast, one minute she was leading an entire army to defeat the enemies, rebels who have turned up uninvited to the center of their government and the next she was wrestling Ştefan to the ground for another switch that could blow up the whole castle, killing all the lives of the innocent vampires, vampires who also have families to come home to at the end of the day. That includes her in this massacre attempt but she decides that if she was going to go, she was going to go alone.

Killing hundreds, Ştefan would've won right then and there. He would've created children who would grow up just like him and her, orphaned and miserable. It has to end and it'll end with them.

She knows Chloe would know about it. Beca knows that Chloe would know the exact moment Beca even as much thinks about it and Chloe would feel it, feel the connection broken and snapped into two. Beca couldn't even imagine what it would feel like and it probably sucks but it is better that way. Chloe would then be completely free from her, chains and shackles finally broken.

She turns the blade towards the center of her chest and time begins to slow down at that point. Her whole life running a brief summary of images in her mind, the best of times and the worst of times. She looks up at the camera, hoping that her silent apology will be felt. Hoping that Chloe would understand why she had to do it. Hoping that Chloe would understand that Beca will never stop loving her no matter what had happened to them, even if the chances of Chloe figuring that out is close to never. That this was the only way to make it stop. That the truth was, she had forgiven her from the moment she left that day. That there was never hate, only pain.

It was pain all along that driven her to punish Chloe for making her suffer all these years. It was pain that constantly gnawed at her to push Chloe away, to spare her heart from more pain. It was pain that bore out of love.

It was pain and love.

Beca might never get over Chloe. Probably not in this lifetime. That she had finally admitted to herself the moment she pushes the blade deep in her chest, hoping to kill that love. Maybe if that final piece of her heart dies, so does all the love she has for Chloe kept inside it. A love that can never happen. Maybe if she dies, the pain will finally end.

Because a Du Pont and a Vanderbilt can never be together.

As the light fades in her eyes, Beca finally reaches the edge of the cliff she had been staring so long at for the past eight years. She finally takes a step forward, opening her arms as she jumps and flies.

 _Love is dangerous and it kills._

* * *

 **8 years ago**

"Please don't," Chloe desperately pleads, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she faces her cousin.

"I knew something was going on with you, I just didn't expected that it's going to involve a Du Pont," Claire Vanderbilt sneers as they both stand at the Du Pont garden, right at the secret entrance leading to the giant weeping willow by the lake.

"I won't let you hurt her," she throws back, voice shaking at the emotions swirling in her chest.

Claire laughs at her. "You won't let me what?" she mockingly asks. "What kind of stupid nonsense is that, Chloe?" she scoffs before stepping forward and staring her down.

"What do you think would happen if I tell everyone about this little secret of yours? Where do you think uncle and aunty would send you to? Where do you think that stupid girl's father would send her to once he finds out about this?" she asks, looming down at Chloe.

"Look around Chloe! Has there anyone in our family ever had a friendship with a Du Pont? You know it's like a secret forbidden rule! Both your fathers were rivals in Victor Barden. They almost even killed each other! And so did their fathers before that! The list goes on," she exclaims. "What? Do you think Darius Du Pont's going to forget all that? He is going to take her back to France the moment he finds out how the daughter of his archenemy is throwing heart eyes at his own daughter,"

Her words are quick to make Chloe's blood boil as she fights back, "What is stupid is this rivalry! And Beca is my best friend,"

"Oh, yeah right, best friend. Believe whatever you want to believe, Chloe. You'll never be with her. You know why? Because you'll have to throw away your family before you can spend forever with her,"

Her words stun Chloe, knocking out every ounce of happiness she felt earlier being with Beca and enjoying a day building their already vast world, a world they created for two. All of that burning into ashes down the ground the second the sad reality hits her.

"And it goes the same way for her. That little nerd would have to be disowned by her family before she can be with you. Her father already had to go through hell just to marry her human mother. But they still conceded to that when she became a vampire. That's the truth, they'd actually consider a human being as a wife to the king than a Vanderbilt! Still think you can make it to forever?" Claire shakes her head. "No matter how you look at it, when that stupid nerd does make it to the council or god forbid, sits on that throne, she's going to take a wife or a husband and it certainly not going to be you because you're a Vanderbilt, Chloe. Her family would never allow Vanderbilt blood to cross with theirs and so would our family. Du Pont blood is dirty blood. We are pure and the highest of the elites," her cousin proudly says and it's nothing new to her ears. They've all been taught that way since they could understand a word.

But Chloe is done with it. She may still be young but she wasn't ignorant or dumb and she won't let anyone insult the soul she was bounded to. "You know what's dirty? You and your rotten personality! Beca is kind, sincere, witty, caring and I could go on forever listing all of her good qualities. She's special to me and we are going to break the division between our families once and for all. It doesn't have to go on like this," she retorts, shaking in anger and passion.

"I see, you're delusional and that stupid, ugly nerd clearly fed you poison to distort your mind," she crosses her arms in front of her chest as she smirks. "Well, if that's your decision then, what can I do?" she says mockingly before turning around to leave.

She should've known. The future of their friendship was heading into the deeper and darker end. But she was young and weak, powerless against everything. There was nothing she could do but watch, sadly and painfully.

She had to watch as they began to make Beca's life in school even more hellish.

"Don't you dare or I'll tell uncle everything," Claire whispers at her ear, a firm hand gripping her arm to stop her from running towards Beca. The Du Pont being publicly humiliated as she stood in the middle of the whole school drenched in a bucket of water from behind.

Chloe could feel it, how Beca's heart sinks and shrivels up in embarrassment. She could feel it even as the Du Pont chooses to walk away with her head down from the laughter and jokes. She feels the fear and disappointment as she helplessly watches. Beca's hurt becomes her own and it is torture that the only thing she can do is send mental waves of calm, like gentle comforting hugs towards her best friend.

It makes her feel even worse when Beca brushes it off aside, "Don't worry, I'm used to it, Chlo. Besides, water can't hurt me. I'll just dry myself up," she assures her.

"But Becs that's not—"

"I felt it, you know," Beca cuts her off, dark blues awkwardly looking down on her book as she speaks. "You, I felt you earlier, that small hug,"

Beca finally looks up at her, a small smile forming on her face, "Now I don't feel bad anymore," she says softly and all Chloe could do is pull Beca in her arms, embracing her as tightly as she could.

It tore her apart and yet she cannot save Beca. As a matter of fact, there's only one person to blame and that was her. And now her best friend will suffer because of her. Instead of saving her, Chloe is destroying her, bit by bit.

"It's nothing," Beca insists as she hides her arm from Chloe but she wasn't having it. She knows something's wrong and by now with the bond growing stronger, no secrets can be kept between them. It won't be a surprise if they started communicating telepathically any moment now.

"Who did this?" she demands as she finds the bruises and cuts starting to heal on the Du Pont's arm.

"I'm fine, it's going to heal," Beca mumbles, retracting her arm quickly and pulling down her long sleeves to cover them up.

"Who did it, Beca?" Chloe pushes, this time in a tone that Beca can't lie to. The Du Pont mumbles nonsense and stutters until she finally breathes out her answer in defeat. Eyes unable to look at her and fingers fidgeting as she blurts it out.

"Your cousins,"

It had to stop and she knew how. There was a way but it's one that would turn her whole world upside down. Sacrifices had to be done and Chloe is finally learning that life isn't always happy and beautiful. But if she must protect Beca she had to make a choice, to come up with a bargain that would keep her away from harm and it's a choice that could cut her heart permanently.

Chloe had never felt emotional pain before and when she did it was a pain that will be marked as the deepest cut in her heart. She'd never forget those sorrowful screams, the pleading and begging. It'll haunt her forever or at least until she could find a way to repair the damage. But until then, tears stream endlessly down her face as she muffles her sobs inside her room as she curls up in a corner. There were too many times when all she wanted was to open the door and end both their misery.

In the end, she did but it was too late. The connection between them starts to weaken and it scared her so much when she couldn't hardly feel for the other half of her heart. Sadly, in front of her parents, she had to make up stories and shrug her shoulders as she stands emotionless. Maybe that's how she got so good in lying. She learned from that moment, smiles have become her new masks and looking perfectly happy has become her shield from the bitter truth, that behind all that hides the pain, the misery and all that is broken inside her. Behind all of the façade, is a hollow shell that will never be complete without its other half. Perfect? It's funny how she's so far from that word they keep describing her as. She's more rotten than everyone else. She wouldn't even be surprised if black blood flows in her veins instead.

But then it only takes one Chloe Beale smile and no one would ever suspect.

Almost like a true sociopath.

Of course, she planned to repair it, to make them believe that she's gotten over it but it was too late when she realizes the unforgiving truth, she's lost _her_ forever. Beca was gone and Chloe will remain a hollow shell for the next six years. She was gone and all that is left of Chloe was the memory of a door dividing them both like the invincible wall that has divided their families apart for centuries. That, and the pain she herself cause.

Maybe it's true, maybe a Du Pont and a Vanderbilt can never be together after all.

With her heart and soul in shreds, Chloe desperately tries to forget instead. Those dark blue eyes that holds all the beauty of the stars in the sky, those rare smiles that would once only appear for her and those arms which took her to a world only the both of them know of. She tries to forget them all. It's easier that way. Forgetting rather than relieving the pain.

Forgetting is better than living in insanity.

 _Love is dangerous and it kills_

* * *

It was dark.

It was like free falling down a hole of darkness and hopelessness. Beca didn't think that it would end. That she'd keep wandering and floating beyond the unknown forever. It was empty and cold until a small spark flickers in a distance. A soft and low murmur is heard in a distance. A soft drumming sound that grows louder every minute. It's a steady rhythm with two consecutive beats thumping every second, a familiar one. A heartbeat. She's heard it before. It felt like it was calling to her, drawing her near and pulling her out of the limbo and into that spark that keeps growing brighter as she nears it. The light becomes blinding and soon she is bathed in it, swallowed into a white mass of light until air surges forcefully into her lungs.

She desperately swallows in air, lungs crying out for more as she coughs and rolls to her side. Her eyes instantly meeting green and yellow. The green turns out to be grass surrounding her as she wearily looks around, feeling lost and confused. When her eyes land down her body, she finds fireflies with a yellow glow blanketing her body before scattering at her movements and flying away.

It takes another moment until everything comes crashing back to her. Being held hostage, tortured, the brutal war at Corvinn Castle, Stefan and her falling down the side of the castle and down the cliff when she pierced-

Her hands fly up to her chest, the palm of her hand feeling the beat of her heart. Sitting up, she pulls down her shirt to find a cut about two inches long at the center of her chest. The wound is healing and it won't be long until it becomes a faint scar.

The realization dawns on her and she laughs out loud in disbelief. She laughed so much that tears started dripping down her face and at this point she might as well be crazy.

She missed.

She missed her mark.

Her sword missed her heart, only grazing it faintly.

For someone who had kept wanting to die so badly, it was unbelievable to think that when it all comes down to it she couldn't actually kill herself. She was a fool to think she could even escape and leave that easily. A true slave to the pain and misery indeed.

Picking herself up, she slowly drags her feet to the spot where her half-brother lay, a few feet from her. He was dead and in spite of everything she takes her father's sword and starts digging through the ground. It takes her awhile until she could place his body in its eternal resting place.

Ştefan was still a Du Pont. They still shared the same blood. He was still her brother. So, she claws on dirt, pushing back the soil to bury him because despite the same DNA flowing in their veins, they weren't alike as he believed. Beca may have had a hard life filled with nothing but scars of the past but she wasn't like Ştefan who gave up his heart and soul, completely consumed by his thirst for vengeance. Ştefan had no one. No one to keep him sane, no one to give him memories he could hold on to and no one to remind his heart that even in the worst of times there's always a spark of hope.

Hers may have been broken but it was still there no matter how hard she tries to hide it. That single broken piece kept beating, kept catching her whenever she falls and kept her back from completely falling down the depths that Ştefan had fell into.

She pierces the sword to the ground right above his burial and whispers a soft farewell. Because everyone, no matter who they are and no matter what they've done, still deserve that much.

"Rest now, brother. You're finally free,"

Three days. It took her three days walking aimlessly in the vast forest until she finally finds civilization. Ironically, after hitching a ride with a couple of hippies and somehow getting high on something, she lands in a bar. Surprisingly, the same bar that her special buddy Natasha happens to be in in, ripped jeans, dark nail polish, chokers and all.

"Don't you look amazing, Olivia," she drawls in that familiar seductive tone despite the sarcasm dripping in her words as she eyes the state Beca is in. A combination of sweat, mud and whatever disgusting stuff she rubbed herself on in the wild.

"Shut up, Tash. And stop calling me that," she bites back, rolling her eyes at the chuckle she hears from the dark haired female before motioning over at the bartender for a drink.

"Olivia is still your second name and you do still look amazing despite the," she prolongs the last word, eyeing her up and down before speaking, " _Little_ smudge you got there," she smirks and Beca quickly downs her drink, flicking her fingers to order another one.

"Why are you in Romania—wait, we are still in Romania, right?" she asks with a frown, looking around her while Natasha shakes her head.

"Yes, you're still in Romania and I'm actually travelling to Styria. Just took a little detour," she explains, straightening her leather jacket while Beca's eyebrow arches up at her words.

"Austria? Really, why? I thought you said you'd never go back,"

Natasha smiles down at her own drink, her dark brown eyes avoiding hers as she shrugs her shoulders, "Maybe I can't… keep running away forever," she admits before taking a drink.

"So you're going to go for that annoying thing in the form of a cupcake called love. Is that what you're trying to say?" Beca slowly spills sarcastically, turning in her seat to face her.

Natasha looks back at her, tilting her head a bit to the side, "I'm going home, Beca. That's what I'm trying to say. I'm going back to _her_ to tell _her_ what I was too scared to tell _her_ back then," she smiles before hopping off her stool and taking her hand.

"Here, take this as a gift from a good friend who has seen you in your worst and hopes to see you someday in your best. I'm also pretty sure, you'd rather sleep somewhere comfortable," she slaps a couple of bills in her hand. "You should go home too, Beca. You're real home. You've wandered far enough. There's nothing here,"

She begins to step back and head for the door only to pause and look back at her again, "You know I'd hug you if you didn't smell so… _amazing_ ,"

"Go away,"

"Bump into you someday, vampire," she yells as she turns to walk out the door, giving her a light wave and leaving Beca looking down at the cash in her hand.

She thought those words would never bother her but as she finds herself back in France, those words follow her tirelessly. It floats around her head even as she sits behind the desk her father used to sit, staring at papers filled with reports of every kind pilling up at the desk and listening to her advisers drone on and on about what they think is important she knows.

For safety purposes, her return had been kept a secret as it turns out, Ştefan had connections inside the council and her life could still be in danger—like she even cares. And as she lays down on her bed, Natasha's words keep coming back to her. _Go home, Beca._

Sitting up in frustration, she sighs before opening a bottle of whiskey. Wasn't she home already? She grew up surrounded by these very walls and if there was one place where she could still feel her mother's presence it was there. But unfortunately, her heart remained weary and anxious as if it was longing to be somewhere else.

Beca knew where. It had always been at the back of her mind since she pushed it there, rejecting the idea because there's no way she's going. She won't and never will. She just has to fight whatever it is that keeps pulling her there. One of these days her heart is going to get tired of it and give up.

But as she watches her father's coffin slowly take place at their family crypt, the urge to go and run to the very place she swore to never step foot on ever again intensifies. It was exactly how it was back then. Only this time instead of her mother, it was her father. High officials and decorated soldiers were present and Beca stood still, doing her best to resist the pull of her heart. She stood there for a long time until she finally manages to utter a couple of words now that she is alone, sort of.

"I forgive you,"

She blinks back tears before placing a single long stemmed rose on his burial and walking off towards her escorts who have stood a good distance all over the place as she had requested. Once she is in the car, she places a hand over her chest, willing her heart to remain steady. It doesn't and she goes back to bed drinking the day away until she just passes out. _Go home, Beca._

Weeks, it had been weeks already and as time passes her temper increases. She's had mood swings and probably the worst case of insomnia that it's starting to give her a negative reputation. The other day she had threw a chair out of the window for something as simple as a coffee spill. Everything irritated her and everyone around her was extremely careful not to accidentally press buttons that shouldn't be pressed. All throughout a small voice inside her head keeps nagging at her yet she remains firm. _Go home, Beca._

A few more days pass and she is heading down to the point of depression that she almost tries to cut or stab herself again. Anything to make her heart stop crying out for _home_. She could feel it bleeding and if she could only open her chest to free it, it would certainly dash at the speed of light to red hair, bright baby blue eyes and adorable pouting lips. She had yelled out in frustration—in all the six languages she was fluent in—cursing her broken heart, that stupid connection and her eleven year old self who created said connection. It was driving her insane but she kept telling herself that it would eventually go away.

 _Go home, Beca._

Somehow, it had gotten to a point where even being drunk wasn't working anymore and the tug on her heart was becoming unbearable. It had her on her knees, begging the universe to stop punishing her. But on that particular night the pull was ten times stronger. It was like something was reeling her in forcefully, desperately calling out to her, begging her to _come home_ and her will to resist it is terribly waning.

Closing her eyes, she repeatedly mumbles words that would keep her from hearing the voices at the back of her head. She tells herself that she doesn't have anyone to go back to. She doesn't need anyone. Her cousins would be here when the winter comes and find out she's still alive and still very broody anyway. There's nothing there that would make her go back. She's never going back—

" _Becs,"_

Her eyes open instantly, heart beating wildly as she sits up and holds her head with both hands. She stays like that for a while until she finally moves. Slowly, she steps out of her bed and opens her drawer, fingers hovering above her passport.

Maybe she needs to remind herself. Maybe she needs to go and prove that there is nothing but disappointment and false hopes waiting for her. That maybe if she got her heart broken again, maybe the stupid connection would at least weaken for the second time and then she could run back to France to live there until her body finally joins her parents back in their family crypt. After proving her thoughts correct then hopefully everything will go back to normal again.

So she steps out a private plane after more or less twelve hours and into a private car heading to where memories of herself ten years ago were kept. When she steps out the vehicle, she stares at the huge Du Pont vacation house. Yet something is still missing. It's like opening a present to frustratingly find another box inside.

She swallows down the lump at her throat when she pauses at the kitchen. Her mother used to sing and dance around there while she made blueberry pancakes for her.

Exhaling heavily, she dismisses her assistants and security, wanting to be alone as she heads to her room to sleep. Jet lag has gotten her exhausted but when she plops down the bed, sleep doesn't come to her no matter how tired her eyes were. She tosses and turns but still nothing happens, that irritable feeling scratching at her heart is still there. She was just about to admit that coming back was a stupid idea after all when she catches sight of the familiar path to the garden out her window.

Grabbing her bag, she heads out, walking to the familiar path she used to sneak out to years ago. She nears the lake and somehow the closer she got, the better she felt. It was a strange but familiar feeling and for a moment she almost turns back around, not wanting to face a different set of memories, ones she's been trying to avoid for the past eight years.

She doesn't stop though and pushes forward.

She was here to prove that there is nothing for her here and her heart is just hoping for things that don't exist. As soon as she reaches the weeping willow, she prepares to lean on the bark of the tree and sleep when her eyes land on a sleeping figure that had now claimed her spot.

Her whole world then comes to a complete stop.

Now, Beca could do a number of things from this point, all ranging from bad to worst. She could start tapping the sleeping person awake with her foot, shove the person out of the way, yell out insults or childishly draw on the sleeping person's face—because it's fun for her and annoying for them.

In the end what she does is crouch down, lean forward with a hand pushing against the tree for balance before reaching out ever so slowly to gently pluck a leaf which fell on wavy auburn locks.

It was just supposed to be pick and leave but when striking baby blue eyes open and look at her, she pauses for a few seconds before taking the leaf, her heart already feeling like it was being lodged in her throat. She was about to throw an insult when warm hands reach out to touch her face as tenderly as possible, rendering her speechless.

No. She thinks this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

She blinks as she awkwardly freezes on her spot. This was supposed to be some sort of reality check for her. This was supposed to be the moment where harsh words are supposed to be exchanged and Beca would quickly book a flight back to France, having accomplished her mission. It's not supposed to be like this.

It's not supposed to feel… good.

She shouldn't even be feeling light and warm.

A warm hand comes up to where her heart beats in a rhythm that matches the heartbeat of the person in front of her.

 _This can't be_

Struggling to get a grip, she finally gets her lips to move, answering the telepathic words in her head, "Exactly, so move, idiot. This is my tree and that's my spot," she replies before clearing her throat and quickly backing away from the burning touch to place her bag down.

But when no reply comes, telepathic or not, she sighs and mutters, "Fine, whatever. I'll sleep over here so don't you dare make a noise because I lack sleep and I won't hesitate on hurting people who try to keep me from getting it," she warns coldly before lying down, using her bag as a pillow.

Ironically, her eyelids start to grow heavy. All her anxieties and irritations have magically disappeared and her heart has started to find its peace. She was about to roll over to her side when a heavy weight suddenly presses down on her. It causes her eyes to quickly open in pure panic, red locks partially covering her vision as she coughs a bit at the sudden pressure.

It's been a very long time since she received a hug from someone other than family. Anyone should know better than to hug or initiate physical contact towards her by surprise. The last person who did that ended up dead. Which means her reaction to it is to push that person away to the far ends of the earth, especially if they are named Chloe Beale.

However, as it happens, her hands remain motionless by her side, unable to move or do anything as comforting warmth spreads all over her body, hypnotizing and paralyzing her completely. She hates it even more how they fit so perfectly, Chloe's head cradled at the crook of her neck, her body covering hers, smooth legs tangled around hers, arms wrapped snugly around her middle and hands clinging really tightly and desperately onto the fabric of her clothes. Adding up to that, her eyelids just continue to grow heavier while her heart continues to feel lighter.

And no, that isn't how it's supposed to go. This is the complete opposite of how it should go. She needs to move, to push _her_ away, to get up, to leave and run to the airport. She just needs to— _sleep, hug her tight and never let go_.

"What the… fuck…"

 _Welcome back home, Beca_

* * *

 **Thank you to those who read, followed and added Midnight Sunshine to your favorites.**


	16. How Deep Is Your Love

**Chapter 16**

* * *

Nature is always calming. The different hues of green and the mellow sounds coming from it provide that feeling of total serenity. Beca always loved looking out unto it. Her mother, when she was alive, had loved nature. That's why there always had to be a garden wherever they may be residing around the globe where she would take long walks around it with Beca bouncing along. Looking out to the wide windows of her father's office, Beca is relieved to have this perfect view of their garden. One more second having to stare at papers that needed signing and listening to advisers telling her what is best for this and that is going to make her go bang her head in the wall.

A knock pulls her out of her thoughts as she tiredly hums a reply. The door opens quickly and Beca doesn't bother turning around to know who it is. With an arm around her middle to prop up her elbow so her fingers can softly press her temples, Beca closes her eyes.

"I said I was going to review it first," she mumbles in a lazy manner. She hears footsteps stepping forward in front of her table. The wooden furniture, if one would notice, was made with such sophistication and about six kinds of exotic wood that would have every president in the world long for it with envy. But the visitor isn't interested in any of that. Her eyes had been focused on the back of Beca's head from the moment she stepped in.

"You also said that yesterday and the day before that and the day before that and the day before that—"

The words abruptly come to a stop as Beca turns around to face stunning bright blue eyes, wavy red locks swept to one side and soft pink lips pausing mid-talk.

"…your highness," Chloe adds, a little uncertainly and even Beca still can't get used to the title. The Vanderbilt may have called her such—teasingly—when they both entered a blood contract about a month ago but the circumstances today were totally different from that time. Formalities are a much serious matter now and crowned royalty must strictly be addressed with the highest form of respect.

Beca then reaches at the bottom of the small pile of documents on her table before pulling out a yellow folder and placing it on top of the pile.

"There," she says while placing a hand on top of the folder. "The bill of unicorn rights is surely going to be the first thing I'll review tomorrow evening and after I am done deciding on it, I will call you to my office _immediately_. Now, is that all?"

"Why not now, if I may ask?" Chloe asks, eyeing the folder then back at Beca.

"Because I'm ti—," she stops before she trips on her words, cursing internally at how close she was to making a mistake.

"Yes, your highness?" the redhead eggs her on, eyes watching her carefully as she leans closer and Beca knows she was waiting for her to admit it—which she won't, by the way, admit the fact that she was exhausted and stressed.

Being queen is no joke.

"Thinking," she blurts out instead. "Plans, laws, projects, developments and strategies. Urgent matters," and there really is stuff to do, just not as urgent or important as she keeps elaborating.

Clearing her throat and keeping her hands busy by re-arranging her papers she finally says, "So, if that's all then you may go,"

"Actually," Chloe starts again before stepping even closer to Beca's table, her pastel violet coat hitting the edge of the wooden table. "There's one more thing," she bites her lip as she says this and Beca is already certain what it's going to be. Also, quickly averting her eyes from those distracting lips is totally the safer and best option right now—if she wants to continue breathing properly.

"What is it?" she asks, eyes and hands finding interest in her fountain pen instead.

"Can I talk to Beca? You know, Beca Mitchell, not the queen of Corvinn castle, crowned royalty, head of the royal army, leader of the council and of the people. Just Beca. Please? I really need to talk to her," Chloe looks at her pleadingly with those sparkling big baby blue eyes that makes Beca sigh in defeat.

With her shoulders sagging down, she lazily sits down at her chair and eyes the redhead for a couple of seconds, "Fine, idiot. You have five minutes. Five," she breathes out, emphasizing the time before leaning back and swivelling her chair to the side to throw a crumpled paper ball into the bin, ultimately dropping all formality and every trace of the invisible crown on her head.

With the queen gone and the laid back Du Pont taking her place, Chloe exhales in relief and plops down the chair in front of Beca's desk. "When's the last time you ate?" she quickly asks in a much friendlier tone and Beca shrugs.

"I've had a coffee," she tries to dismiss but no sooner has she said this Chloe pushes her papers aside instantly earning a reaction.

"Those are important," she warns but is immediately faced with a pointed stare.

"Oh do they give you energy and nutrition now?" Chloe fires back, an eyebrow arched up perfectly as she waits for Beca to object. The Du Pont looks away instead, having no valid argument for that and Chloe reaches down on the paper bag Beca hadn't noticed she was carrying earlier.

In seconds a lunchbox is laid on top of her desk, followed by two more plastic containers and a mug. The sight makes Beca groan, "Time to hide kids, the nutrition police is here," she smirks at the glare the Vanderbilt throws at her in reply.

"How come they aren't feeding you? You're the queen for god's sake!"

"Well, I might have dismissed them a couple of hours ago…" she trails off softly while fiddling through the edges of stacked papers and the Vanderbilt just throws her an exasperated look.

"Are you even sleeping these days?" Chloe asks worriedly as Beca pokes on the food, hoping that her stomach doesn't embarrass her more by growling loud enough at the sudden mouth-watering dishes in front of her. Most especially if said dishes are native to her mother country.

"There's a sofa over there and this chair is comfy," she mumbles before taking a spoonful of _Hachis Parmentier_ or mashed potatoes over a layer of ground beef and then eyeing the blood sausage or as they call it in France, _Boudin noir_. It's extremely delicious—which she's not going to admit, even if they're her favourites.

"Becs!"

"What? I've slept in worse conditions. Besides I'm home anyway, what difference is sleeping in the sofa than in the bed at this point?" she defends before slyly taking a piece of blueberry muffin.

"You need to take a break," Chloe suggests and Beca doesn't see how her she fidgets her fingers when she says this.

"Easier said than done," she replies—as she starts demolishing the blood sausages.

"At least a couple of hours," Chloe tries again and there's a hint of hopefulness to her tone.

"You've seen the line of people outside wanting to see me, right?" she counters with her mouth full of food.

"You can dismiss them and besides, there's like three people waiting outside. It surely won't take you all day,"

She surely is very passionate about this—like a lot of things Chloe Beale is so passionate about. For example, and in no specific order, humanitarian efforts, vampiritarian efforts, recycling, acapella and debating that the overfeeding of pigeons in the park needs to be discouraged. Sometimes it's so hard to even believe that a person like Chloe exists.

"Yes it'll be easy if they are going to talk about unicorn rights which by the way, is hard to protect if you can't even see one," she points out in between sips of blood from the adorable otter mug.

"Didn't really have a choice. How else am I supposed to see you unless I set a valid appointment?" she mumbles quickly that Beca doesn't catch her words properly—the blood sausages are to blame.

"What?"

"Unicorns are important too! Just because you rarely see them doesn't make them invalid," Chloe blurts out before switching back to the main topic.

"As I was saying, you need a break,"

Beca hums another reply, eating a piece of blueberry muffin as she waits for another set of reasons why she needs to get some rest. Rest, something she could actually get anytime she wants if she could only sleep properly at night and stop trying to forcibly get everything done all at the same time. They're all distractions, she admits, stuff to take away her mind of _feelings_ she is trying to push away. Feelings that are bringing her delicious French food, entertaining her with unicorns and doing a great job at keeping her mind at peace. _And her stubborn heart completely fluttering over to beautiful baby blues and clinging to them tightly for maybe the rest of her life or until she forcefully reels it back in the dungeons where she safely tries to hide it._

She almost chokes on her mashed potatoes as she stops her thoughts from going where it isn't supposed to go— _damn, feelings!_ When she looks up at the Vanderbilt who has strangely gotten silent for a minute now, she lays down her spoon and looks at her with a look that screams, _'just spill it'_.

"What now?" she asks knowing that there's a favour brewing from underneath that badly wants to rise up.

When the redhead remains silent and instead, starts unconsciously fidgeting with her fingers again she goes for a threat, "You do know that your five minutes is up, like fifteen minutes ago," and Beca swears that if this is something as shallow as another bill of rights for the ducks then she's seriously going to—

"Go out,"

 _Go where?_

But before she could even asks, the Vanderbilt was quick to elaborate, "You need to go out with me—I-I mean we can go someplace relaxing so you can like, unwind!" she stutters, her tone going quick and up in some record breaking pitch.

She contemplates on it for a few moments before figuring out that maybe she needs some details first. "When and where? Because I still need to check my sched—"

"Tomorrow, 2 am, beside Polis Café!" comes the very hurried reply and before Beca could even give an excuse the Vanderbilt gets up with an equally hurried, "Don't be late! See you tomorrow, bye!" before rushing out the door almost as quick as lightning.

If Beca finds sleeping hard, she's going to get none of that today. She did spend hours tossing and turning in bed as she tries to think of ways on how to tell Chloe that she won't be able to go. She's already got a mental list of reasonable excuses.

One, she was too busy, which was slightly true. Two, she's got meetings, which was again slightly true if you count that one video conference meeting with the Irish ambassador. And three, feelings, feelings and feelings! Stupid feelings that don't go away even if you beg them to!

Feelings that drive you to the edge when you least expect it and arise out of the blue. Feelings that make you stop in front of a pet shop beside the now closed Polis Café at two in the morning and worsen the grand debate happening in your head— _she's losing in it, apparently_.

She had spent her whole day being antsy and in the state of confusion. It was worse enough that she couldn't concentrate on her work. This wasn't exactly what she had expected when she woke up underneath the weeping willow a week ago with her head now buried in vanilla scented wavy red hair, arms protectively embracing the sleeping body next to her and legs still tangled up with each other. She swore she had a heart attack right then and there. So, she slipped away as quietly as possible and figured that now that things would surely grow even more awkward between them then she would be fine. Two days without hearing anything from the Vanderbilt already has her planning her flight back to France until those determined baby blues come greeting her in her office before laying down a yellow folder on the center of her table. If Beca was shocked, she didn't let it show as she had been trained to hide her emotions and school her features from a young age.

Chloe had then proceeded to get straight to business by pointing out that mythical creatures like the unicorns need to be protected as the threat of humans possibly finding and hunting them is increasing. Of course, Beca had first thought it was all a joke but as Chloe starts making valid points, even citing their laws on protecting the secrets of their world and everything connected to it, she realizes how serious the redhead actually was. And naturally, they argued and debated about it. What Beca hadn't noticed is that they've been going on for almost four hours straight or that unicorns wasn't the topic anymore— _"No, why would I watch that? She's going to die anyway or they'll split up because of some dumb reason or they'll be forced in some heterosexual shit despite it being obvious that they are in love with each other since the FIRST movie! Lesbian couples never end up together! I'm telling you, human TV and films are trash, Chloe,"_

It was only when an urgent phone call from Romania finally cuts their 'discussion' short. Beca would then find out that Chloe had scheduled that appointment two days ago because apparently, non-relatives can't _just_ see her without an appointment about political matters or that she's suddenly coming up with numerous reasons why she should stay in Maryland instead of heading back to France. The Vanderbilt would then constantly return to her office for the next couple of days. It all fell together so easily and it makes Beca want to stab herself a million more times—because _feelings_.

It's feelings that have her standing out of her car with her hands in the pockets of her black knee-length coat and staring dumbly at the pet shop which definitely reads 'closed'. Only the clubs and 24/7 convenience stores nearby were open at this hour.

Anyone would've turned and walked away instead but they weren't Beca. They couldn't feel what she feels. There's that very strong pull coming from inside the small establishment or that extremely hypnotizing scent that fills up her lungs. Only Beca and Beca alone would know that Chloe is definitely inside.

She glances at the identical black cars, courtesy of the council, parked at strategic locations across the now empty street for security purposes. It had been difficult getting them off her back and in the end they had made a compromise to keep watch from a distance instead.

Due to the lack of people with it being a dead hour easily makes her hesitation outside very much obvious. She exhales heavily for the millionth time. Every time she takes a couple of steps forward it is followed by a couple of steps back. She doesn't even know what she's doing anymore or why she was acting so ridiculous. It's just Chloe and some trip to the pet shop.

 _Just Chloe. And that's the problem._

Her fingers hover above the door handle only to pause for a moment and drop back down to her side. It's ironic she thinks to be so close yet so far at the same time. It reminded her of eight years ago when they'd stand across each other at the school corridors, just a couple of steps away from each other yet unable to cross the distance. _Because a Du Pont and a Vanderbilt don't mingle with each other_.

But then there's that small smile and that knowing look. It only takes couple of moments before it fades when their families make the gap even more prominent between them. She'd be pushed around to a corner and Chloe would be pulled away. But that's how it is.

Always separated.

The memory makes her take a step back, her feet just about to turn around when the door suddenly opens. It makes her stop, the growing smile greeting her instantly erasing that strong resolve to leave. Those lips begin to move but she doesn't catch the words coming out of them and only stares as warm fingers wrap around her own, pulling her inside. She follows without a word, eyes gazing on swaying auburn hair in front of her.

It takes her back again. The clock ticking slowly as she happily runs across the gardens with Chloe in front of her, those same auburn locks bouncing with every movement. Their hands locked into each other as they imagine of great adventures filled with mystical creatures and friendly aliens.

Only this time, said mystical creatures and friendly aliens happen to be—

"Kittens?" she repeats, looking distantly at the little balls of fluff stumbling around their little enclosure as she lingers by the door. Chloe on the other hand is already excitedly carrying a bunch of kittens in her arms.

"I know! Aren't they cute?" she gushes, turning towards her.

"Yeah they are," she replies monotonously. "Are you adopting one? Is that what why we're here? And please tell me you had legal access to this shop because even though breaking in is fun, I'd much prefer to be caught stealing a liquor store than a pet shop," she says as she pokes at one of the stuffed pet toys in a corner.

"First of all, what if we don't get caught?" Chloe throws back at her, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Second, maybe I want to adopt one. Do you think I should take the white one or the brown one?" she says looking down at the little fur balls in her arms and proceeding to explain more about each kitten.

"And they'll claw at everything, pee on your lap, get cat hair all over your furniture and their shit smells twice as bad than dog shit," Beca continues for her, propping an elbow on top of one of the cabinets as she taps her finger on another stuffed toy's nose.

But as she already knows, nothing dampens Chloe's resolve to do anything she sets her heart to. "But you'll get loads of fluffy hugs, kisses and cuteness! Their awesome companions too,"

Beca narrows her eyes at her words and sighs, "That's," she starts choosing her words carefully and shaking her head lightly at the only conclusion that comes up. "That's not how cats are. They are pure evil, Chloe,"

The offended look almost makes her smile but she masks it perfectly well. "How are these sweethearts evil?" she questions, her tone hiking up to the roof. It doesn't really bother her at all until she sees that familiar look. The one that doesn't settle well in her gut. The calm before the storm. The silence before the pounce. The kittens on the ground.

The kittens are down on the fucking ground.

The kittens are crawling on the ground because the _idiot_ has just released them and now they are marching her way to wage war at her— _those evil beings_.

"No. Don't go this way—Shoo!"

Beca steps back further against the wall—if that was possible—and tries to scare them off by shaking her foot in front of them. She does get most of them to scamper away except for one.

A single kitten with gray and white fur underneath the black stripes that stretch all over its body, looks up at her with its dark blue eyes. Upon closer inspection, the black markings on its forehead and around its eyes in contrasts to the brown fur of its face reminded her of a racoon.

"Go! Go follow your friends," she says, waving it off with her hand but none of her shooing works. Instead, the kitten crawls even closer until it reaches her feet. She remains still as it climbs up on top of her black and white sneakers, a paw against her leg as it lets out a small meow.

Uncertainly, she reaches down to take the little fur ball off her, placing it down the floor and gently pushing it in the opposite direction. It doesn't though and just keeps crawling back to her.

"She likes you," Chloe observes as she kneels down the floor to play with an orange kitten.

"Because it's evil," Beca grumbles, still trying to push the kitten away.

Her words are quick to make a frown appear on Chloe's face, "Why?" she asks and perhaps it was the poor lighting of the room but she almost seemed hurt.

"Why do you make it seem so wrong for someone to like you?"

And maybe Beca wasn't prepared for questions like that. So, she lets the silence stretch. Her hands slowly cease to push the kitten away until she just stops and just watches it crawl back to her, rubbing its head against the side of her sneakers. Sighing in defeat, she sits on the floor across Chloe, who was now settled down with her legs crossed, and lazily strokes on black fur.

"I've killed many," she quietly answers after a while.

"I know" comes the equally soft reply.

Somehow it irritates her how casual it sounds, how easily it was taken in, or how simple it was. Of all the vicious things that she had done, people have looked at her in horror, avoided her and wouldn't even dare come across her ever again.

"All of them died brutal deaths,"

"I know,"

She mustn't be saying that and Beca feels like she was thrown in some alternate universe where life wasn't an ass.

"I'm evil,"

"You're not,"

The sarcasm in her laughter is evident and she doesn't bother hiding it. Anger starts to rise from inside her chest and she doesn't even know where exactly it is stemming out of. Or like everything in her life, she probably just didn't want to face it.

"You're naïve to think that," she strikes, looking at the redhead whose attention was still held by the kittens playing around her.

She keeps looking though, "Life isn't only filled with rainbows and sunshine. People whoever they may be are capable of being cruel. Just because I saved the world doesn't mean I'm good. Don't twist things and talk about them like you know it all. I just happened to not have a choice. It was only this or that,"

That finally makes the Vanderbilt look up back at her and Beca figures that it only hurts. How painfully beautiful she was. How those magical blues are capable of destroying worlds. It wasn't fair.

"Is that what you want me to think of you?" she questions, her gaze unwavering and Beca doesn't know what to make of it.

"It's the truth," she answers.

The redhead's eyes drop down to the kitten now settling down her lap as she continues softly, "It is, maybe, but it still doesn't make me think of you any less,"

Beca could've easily countered that but her thoughts fade into a blank piece of paper as the redhead suddenly adds, "I don't think I can ever hate you, Becs. I don't want to. I never wanted to,"

Beca's suddenly reminded why she didn't want to be there at that moment. There's a million things she could say. A million things she could ask. But she doesn't out of fear of what she may hear. She wasn't ready for that. She'll never be and her walls are in danger of crumbling if it happens. She can't ever let that happen. But Chloe Beale, destroyer of worlds and the greatest danger to her mental well-being, doesn't make things easy and Beca finds that the will to push her away wasn't as strong as it was. Not when they are at this point.

"Do you hate me?"

Those baby blues search hers and for a while they just stare at each other in silence. The dimness of the room unable to hide her. She couldn't look away. "Do you still hate me, Midnight?"

Beca was never good with words when she was a child. Time has improved that flaw. But tonight the jumbled mess in her mind and the conflicting feelings swirling inside her chest has brought back that flaw. There was an answer but saying it out loud could ruin her, ruin… everything she built. It suddenly scares her.

But even then Chloe always seemed to know. Beca never really had to say anything. She always could tell even back then and it makes Beca feel even more nostalgic. For years, she's deemed their history, tragic and unrepairable just like their families. She's figured that it was better that way. Figured that it was better to leave it with unmeasurable hate rather than stay and complicate things further.

But how does one stray from the very thing your heart desires?

Tragic, indeed.

How she wished she could stay angry at her, to remain furious and resentful. How she wished she still could conjure that much hate as she had felt before. But she doesn't.

That hate never even existed and it's tragic to love someone you know will never be yours.

She doesn't immediately realize Chloe sitting down next to her but when she does, her heartbeat increases in speed.

"I missed you,"

It comes as a whisper but to Beca it's as loud as an explosion, a bomb ticking off in front of her.

Three words.

It only took three words to make her cave in.

"I missed you too,"

The space lessens and Chloe's hand brush against hers. Her heart stops and Chloe fingers gently wrap around hers, slow and uncertain. But she was too far gone. Miserably failing to grasp control of her own body as she closes her fingers around Chloe's and holds on to it.

Everything feels light. She discovers that it's a new kind of high. One she wants to get into over and over again until she overdoses herself in it.

"Are you still leaving for France?"

"Eventually,"

"Oh," the disappointed tone was too obvious and it takes so much for her not to fall completely.

"After I finish the school year in Victor Barden. Council's orders. Apparently, being queen means having a splendid educational background,"

"Oh," this time it sounds more hopeful, one that comes with a small smile.

And it's all just too much. If she hadn't caught herself in time, she would've done something she might regret.

"I have to go," she finally lets out and it honestly feels like being ripped back into the horrible reality.

"So, tomorrow?" Chloe asks, again with that hopeful tone and thankfully, Beca wasn't looking into those eyes or she might just pathetically cave in again.

"Can't. Huge meeting with the council tomorrow,"

It's a lie. But it's the only way she knows. She needs to save herself or she'll drown completely and she can't have that.

"Maybe some other time then,"

"Yeah, some other time,"

The racoon kitten is already sleeping in between them and when Chloe asks what name she would give it—just in case she picks that one—Beca doesn't hesitate on saying, 'Evil Warlord,' It elicits melodious laughter and it's probably going to ring in Beca's ears all night.

They slip out of the kitten room and just when she thought she could finally grasp for air, Chloe pulls her back down in the deep again. She reaches for Beca, drawing her in for a hug and for a few moments Beca thinks maybe it is okay to drown in the moment. But lingering any longer than she should is dangerous. Especially when Chloe's body fits hers perfectly, her scent so good and her exposed neck where that throbbing pulse is dangerously close to Beca's lips.

So she pulls away with every will power she can muster before she completely loses it and leaves.

"Cancel everything tomorrow," she orders when she gets home, running her hands through her hair before grabbing her personal car keys. She then quickly hops into one of her cars. Ignoring her security and driving off as far as she can go.

She stops in front of a club, the one she is granted VVIP access to and heads to the bar without pausing. They pour her poison of choice and she drinks it all in one go.

It doesn't take long until she finds a warm body in the crowd, easy and willing for her. The air thickens and it's too hot for clothes. She needed release and she needed one now. When she gets it, there's only one name spilling off her lips and it's one belonging to someone she can't have. But it wasn't enough and unfortunately she knows why.

So she settles for what's in front of her instead.

She needed more.

She needed a distraction.

* * *

 **3 years ago**

 **Russia**

 **345** **th** **Annual Royal International Military Exercises**

The cold bites back harsher than ever out in the forest with snow thickly blanketing the ground where Beca's boots have been trudging along for three days. Behind her, a team of 30 soldiers follow, all eyes peeled at every corner of their surroundings and ears trained to pick up the faintest of sounds even an ordinary vampire can't hear. Their hands carrying assault rifles filled with fake bullets instead of the real ones and their backs being weighed down by travel bags of necessities they needed for their four day military activity.

Every year, military teams from all over the world join together to conduct friendly battles in order to share skills, knowledge and strengthen international ties. This year, six teams from all over the world, including the five elite heirs are taking part of this year's exercises. Being paired randomly, it promotes unity, makes things much interesting and less biased. For sixteen year old Beca it's bullshit and a waste of time, energy and money. Plus, one look at her co-commander and that belief strengthens even more. She'd rather have her brains fried than spend another day in the wild without having to actually create havoc. It's like mock debates but less fun.

"We camp out here for now. The sun's about to come up," Thomas Vanderbilt says, stopping next to her while she visually checks the perimeter.

"If you want to get ambushed easily and take last place in this child's play then go ahead and build your luxury tent," she mutters, eyes still scanning the area while she internally frowns at the Vanderbilt heir's highly expensive choice of gear and equipment.

Thomas or Tom for short—a nickname Beca won't ever use because speaking it already causes her stomach to turn—glares back at her and she could feel his temper bubbling up to its limits like the countless of times it has already happened for the past two days.

"Just so you know, if I haven't made myself clear since the first day, losing, isn't in my vocabulary nor do I know what that feels like so if you've got a better idea then go ahead and share it then since you're such an expert, apparently," he says through gritted teeth as Beca levels his glare. They stand in front of the other for a minute, being both harshly bred and trained for leadership, both their dominant personalities are bent to clash at every turn and decision they encounter.

Being tired, hungry and cold, Beca decides that now is not the time to kick the Vanderbilt's ass as she silently points over a certain direction, eyes never leaving Tom's as she does so.

Tom seems to contemplate it for a while, his jaw clenching before finally breaking their staring battle and looking over at their team. "We camp up ahead," he orders while Beca starts walking towards the 'much more' strategic location. The Vanderbilt however walks past her, muttering an angry and low, "You can have this one, Du Pont. By the next decision, we're going to follow _my_ orders,"

Beca rolls her eyes, wondering why of all the people she could've paired up with it had to be a Vanderbilt. She remembers having heard whispers and gasps as the announcement of paired team commanders happened. She already knew at that second that things are going to turn out the way it has turned out now.

Fortunately, winning was a goal they both shared despite of how much they wanted to strangle each other every passing minute they spend together travelling. So, they avoided getting physical at each other for the sake of getting first place. Yesterday night, she had relented to his 'opinion' about which direction they should take next and today just happened to be her turn to gain the upper hand.

"You have a death wish," Tom suddenly says, breaking the silence between them as they take refuge away from the sun. It won't be long until sunset though and they'd be back to travelling. Beca looks up from where she is seated to meet those icy blue eyes staring back at her.

When she doesn't reply, he continues to elaborate, "I heard you're enlisting for underworld,"

Underworld, a word used whenever one plans to join the military's underground operations. It's no secret that the council has trained killers to do what they dubbed as the highly confidential 'black book operations'. It was formed in secrecy years ago when the threat of exposure to their 'kind' has risen. Vampires had walked alongside humans for years but despite each one having general knowledge of hiding their identity to the world, there are some who still break the rules.

Massacres, assassinations and gruesome murders have increased during 1970s and the council is having a hard time catching and covering up the identity of those whom they call 'rogue vampires' or vampires who do not submit to the crown and cause havoc in the human world without a care of exposure. Thus, the Underworld is formed, an organization without the restraints of the laws and therefore can operate through illegal methods. However, if asked, the council would deny any involvement in its creation.

Unlike most elite heirs who would choose a seat in the council or in any prestigious government organization, Beca is about to officially join Underworld and would most likely be the youngest member to have ever worked under the black flag. Officially is the word because to be honest, she has been in the care of Underworld since she was twelve, being trained to become an official death squad agent. Training orphaned children has always been their specialty. Children were easier to train and earning their loyalty was easy. Regarding that, Beca breaks another record to be the only non-orphan child—she may only have one parent but still, she can't exactly be called orphan.

"Better than getting married," Beca finally replies, her words being shot like arrows and clearly hitting its mark.

"Depends on who you're marrying," Tom corrects her while Beca sighs.

"Congratulations then. Just a forewarning though, sex gets boring after a couple of months, love dies after two years and children are a pain in the ass. Good luck," she continues to say in a mocking tone before leaning back on to the cold rocky wall and closing her eyes to sleep.

"I'm marrying Chloe,"

The name comes out of nowhere like a speeding car colliding from behind her. It has been years since she last heard it. Her eyelids slowly open but they don't look at the Vanderbilt, her dark blue orbs settling at the thick snow covering the ground instead.

"You probably already know how it is in my family. She was bound to be mine from the moment she was born. I haven't seen her in years but I've been told that her beauty threatens Aphrodite's,"

Beca's fists clench unconsciously and the blue in her eyes threatening to be washed away and replaced by dark red.

"It's funny because I suddenly remembered," Tom starts before pausing, a finger tapping his chin, "A little bird told me that you and my future wife have seemed to be closely acquainted years ago… in secret,"

Beca finally returns her gaze back at him, her features going from playful to unreadable as she straightens up.

"We'll be seated in the council soon, our circle will grow smaller and our families mingling with each other more often than before. Maybe I'm just here to straighten some issues once and for all," he says before picking himself up.

"Or you can take this as a reminder that there are some borders that can be crossed and some that are impossible… like our families,"

Beca finds herself standing across from him, head held up high, unwavering as explosives set off in her head and her heart sparking a blaze that the line between what's wrong and right starts to fog up. She steps forward, her heart feeling that soft tug from that small and almost unnoticeable chain connected to it from the other end of the globe. If she wasn't so pre-occupied with murderous thoughts, she would've been surprised to find the connection still alive and unbroken.

Her eyes are focused at him with such intensity and it's like losing control for the first time again. It's like pulling the trigger and hearing the bullet hitting its mark with that sickening sound Beca will never forget.

A sadistic smile forms on her face. She learned that one from her father. "That's unfortunate," she almost whispers as a very small crease starts to show in between his forehead.

"Because the truth is, no matter how many churches around the globe you marry her in and no matter how many million times you claim her, there's always going to be a part of me inside of her that nobody can ever expel. Not even Chloe herself can do it and certainly not you," her chest heaves as she emphasizes each and every word, her eyes clouding with rage.

"It's flattering that you find me to be such a huge threat despite my absence in her life that now I'm certain of one thing. It'll bring me great amount of pleasure to know that as you take her as your wife, your partner and mate, that with every kiss she gives you, every bone crushing hug, every single touch, every sort of affection that she can show and that even as you make you love to her," she swallows hard and inhales as much air as her lungs can take.

"I bet, there'll always be that small worrying thought in the back of your head asking you that one question," she pauses, proud at the uneasiness slowly painting his face before continuing further.

"Does she really, _truly_ belong to you?" she sneers, her fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"Then when you finally realize it, what you haven't spotted from the very beginning, what you failed to see from the start. That she may be born a Vanderbilt. That her blood may be considered pure but deep down underneath all that flesh and blood, deep in the core of her bones, she is very much as rotten as a Du Pont that she might as well be one. That it's not just because of my blood flowing deep in her but it's because she's always been different. That I'm just the trigger to that side of her you're probably going to be desperately trying to hide but can't and with that you can be sure, it'll be the greatest accomplishment of my life," she presses on tauntingly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she feigns surprise as she spots the vein popping out at the side of his neck in anger. "You must not know of this but… I know what her blood tastes like," she leans closer to his ear as she whispers, "And god it tastes extremely addicting. It's so," she prolongs the last word as if savouring something delightful. "Delicious, like the finest, rarest wine you'll ever taste. You just want to keep having more and more, and more. That's what Chloe tastes like,"

"My advice?" she says, finally stepping back and answering without waiting for a reply. "Be careful, Thomas. We Du Ponts have it in our blood to love the thrill of spiralling closely to the edge, defying authority, breaking the rules, have such strong affinity for the wild side and go _boom_ when suppressed for so long, even more so when restricted," she says with a flourish of her fingers.

"You might want to learn how to duck and avoid when she's pissed, I might've taught her how to punch and kick," she nods, turning to leave before abruptly stopping to face him once more.

"Oh and will you tell your sister, Claire, that out in the wild it's the loud and chatty little birds that easily get spotted and shot first. Stay indoors,"

She then turns around, deaf to the furious retorts he growls at her from behind. Her feet don't stop as she lets the distance between them grow. She doesn't care about the stupid military exercises anymore. She's done playing those stupid games.

When she finally stops, she finds her heart pumping hard in her chest, her body tense and shaking. Not with the cold but with anger, maybe even fury.

The truth is, she didn't know were all those came from. Everything just spilled out of her lips before she could even fully comprehend them. She just wanted to piss him off. Admittedly, he struck a nerve. She didn't expect it. Anything regarding Chloe wasn't expected.

But it also dawned at her that her words held something behind them she suddenly refuses to accept. If it was something she could vomit then she would've done so now. Because if that really was what she was implying earlier then she must be going mad.

Did she just unconsciously made it clear to him that Chloe Beale is hers?

Was that possessive rage?

"I need alcohol," she mumbles to herself while shaking her head to dismiss the absurd thought.

Because Chloe was and can never be hers.

And working for Underworld? It's just another escape.

Another _distraction_.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Alright. I'm up! I'm here. I'm alive. But what day is it today? Holy shit. Too early. Well, fuck it. Here's an update for all you pretty assholes. Merry Christmas! Oh double shit on top of a whole pile of shit. It's already 2018? I should stop. I'm drunk...in love. Damn.

Why am I like this?

Fuck. Language. Sorry kids.

Bechloe is real.

 **Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and commented/reviewed Midnight Sunshine! I love and appreciate all of it. Update next week (or whenever this vacation/alcohol hangover goes away). Also, don't drink while you write. Psh, just kidding. Always drink when you write stories, NOT when you drive (NEVER when you drive).**


	17. I Really Need To Learn

**Chapter 17**

* * *

The night skies were kind on that particular day as Beca stands in front of hundreds in attendance at Victor Barden's memorial ceremony. Earlier, it had been predicted to rain as dark clouds rumbled by but as the outdoor event started the skies started to clear and bless them with a starry night.

The five elite families stood in the front rows while the members of the newly formed council stood behind Beca on stage. As for the Du Pont, this would mark her first ever public appearance as the crowned queen. She even finds it ironic that of all events it had to be about death.

Death, the only constant companion she had ever since. Sometimes, it had been an enemy looming in the shadows. Sometimes, an old friend visiting her in times when she would feel particularly sentimental. Tonight happens to be the latter.

An hour ago, in attempt to avoid as much attention as possible, despite it being useless as everyone was already too curious to see 'the young queen who saved Corvinn Castle', Beca had opted a much more discreet entrance. She had went in from the back of the stage instead of the traditional entrance at the center, through the middle of the crowd. Maybe it was also because she was too hungover to make a grand entrance.

Last morning had been one of her wildest mornings in a long time, partying until her legs gave up on her, drinking until she passed out and sharing body heat with somebody she doesn't even remember who in between all of it. As a matter of fact, it had only been four hours since she stumbled back in the West Wing's Du Pont manor, smelling like alcohol, cigarettes and sex.

Of course she gets a long and serious reprimanding by the council's elders on top of her raging headache. And like the annoying, sarcastic ball of shit that she is known to be, Beca simply gives them a nod and a smirk that shows not even an inch of remorse. She even bets that by now somebody is already plotting her assassination so the rightful crowned royalty can replace her because unfortunately, Beca is to remain queen until she reaches 21. So, two more years then.

Or in Beca's words, 'two more fucking years'.

Adjusting her sunglasses, she tries to focus on the speeches being said from chosen Victor Barden staff, students and family members of the victims of what is dubbed the 'Victor Barden Massacre'. In a couple of minutes, it'll be Beca's turn to stand behind the podium to talk about something inspiring, to move hearts and ease the pain. Beca scoffs at the idea because she'll be damned if ever she found the right words that would magically make everyone feel better. She can't even deal with her own so it's baffling that whatever nonsense she speaks out of the script given to her would move them.

How people deem her as a worthy leader still bemuses her. After all, she's just some reckless a 19 year old who is addicted to alcohol and is unable to confront her own problems without resorting to distractions or fist fights.

Staring down on the papers—an actual two page essay one of her advisers made—that she'd be reading out loud, like a pre-schooler, Beca breathes out a heavy sigh and fights the urge to massage her temples in order to soothe her ongoing headache. Her advisers had strictly implied that, 'people will be watching you closely' and seriously, it only makes the painful throbbing worse. That, and the brewing anxiety and nervousness of speaking in front of a large audience is making her want to run to Hawaii instead.

Beca had always been good at leading tactical operations, infiltration, espionage and strategizing attacks. But not this, this inspirational political shit speeches. She had always been bad at public speaking—not to be confused with her ability to flirt in public, one that she is very well versed in, and a different topic to be delved upon some other time. Besides, it was easier for her to woo a woman to bed than be all likeable and charismatic to hundreds of people.

Fortunately, she doesn't trip on her way to the podium—thank god—nor does she stutter when uttering her first few words. She could actually just go through the whole thing without a glitch, get an applause and walk away but as she looks up at the crowd she pauses. Her dark blues hidden underneath her sunglasses land on more than a hundred pair of eyes staring back at her. Teary eyes that are filled with the hope that she could lead them, hope that she would have the ability to assure them that they can trust her. Her gaze falls upon the young children in the crowd. Too young to understand that one or both their parents will never come back home ever again. That their older siblings won't be able to return from college and things won't ever come back to the way it was.

Beca had now lost both her parents in unnatural ways. Both murdered to protect their family and the people. The same people who are now looking up at her. This ceremony was for them and for the people who were taken away from this world too early, some of whom were in Beca's classes and some who she might have randomly bumped into, those innocent people who didn't deserve what happened to them.

They didn't deserve a two page worth of words she didn't even write.

She, most of all, is supposed to know what it's like, what it feels to be in their shoes. And she knew this was no way to ease their pain. The realization comes in waves, memories of her parent's funerals, crashing towards her all at once. It stuns her to silence.

Having thought that her earlier behaviour, brought about by her whole day of partying, was now causing this minor hiccup at such an important event, one of her advisers gets up to come to her aide. Probably even blaming it on her inexperience to such matters.

But without even looking, Beca was quick to raise up her hand to dismiss him as she takes a few deep breathes and clears her throat. She pushes the papers in front of her aside before looking up at the crowd. She quickly spots her cousins—who have all tackled her down the ground upon seeing her and held her like that for almost an hour as they all cried ugly tears while she cursed at them repeatedly—before finally glancing towards beautiful baby blues, gently urging her to keep going and say what her heart wanted to say. That she's not alone. She was never alone. That if ever she needed someone to lean on and hold on to, _she'll_ be there. Beca swallows hard and nods.

"I'm sorry," she finally says faintly, inhaling deeply before speaking once more. This time louder and clearer.

"I'll never be half as good of a leader as my father, the late Darius Du Pont, was or even the leaders before him. I lack experience and at times brash in my actions. I even lack the ability to say the right words to you all at such a dark time like tonight," she slowly admits, aware of the murmuring and gasping from the back by her advisers and council members. Her sudden off the script stunt is probably going to get her another three hour reprimanding but it's too late to take it all back now.

She doesn't want to take it back either.

"I don't want to hide anything from you and act all proud and mighty. Because all of you deserve the truth," she pauses once more to turn her head towards the large mural. Names, photos of loved ones that had left and dedications from those who were left behind filled the entire wall. On top of all them, a photo of her father, Darius looking much younger and filled with life. A rare photo of him smiling lightly, taken by none other than Beca's mother, Robbyn. He looked happier.

Beca remembers that moment. She was there. They were enjoying a lazy afternoon at their patio where she kept pulling her father by the hand as she excitedly walks around the garden to catch butterflies with him while her mother kept snapping photos.

" _But why can't I keep them?"_

" _Because if you don't let them go, they'll die,"_

" _But I can take care of them! I'll feed them every day and give them tons of love, father,"_

" _I know you will. But they aren't yours to keep, Rebecca. They have their own families and friends. Also, they are in love with the flowers which is why you can't tear them apart because it'll break their hearts,"_

" _I don't want to break the butterflies hearts but I really want one,"_

" _When you love something, sometimes you need to set them free so they can be happy. You'll understand that one day. But you don't have to be sad, you can always visit them here, in the garden, where they can play with you. You are after all as pretty as a flower, my little rose,"_

Beca balls up her fists at the memories, those happier, simpler times. Pulling herself away from them, she faces the crowd once more.

"And the truth is, I cannot do this alone," she confesses, voice slightly wavering at the end.

"I tried that many times it has brought nothing to me but failure," she looks down, head hanging low as she swallows the lump in her throat and blinks back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. When she feels ready to continue, only does she raise up her head once more.

"I need your help. We all need each other because I have to admit, it's not easy getting up your feet again after something as horrible as this. But," she breathes in deep, gaining more confidence as she goes on. "Trust me as I say this. We will stand up again," she nods with much conviction.

"I've been there before. I've fallen countless times, to the point where I didn't want to climb back up again anymore," she takes another deep breathe as another memory is triggered, the center of her chest aching.

"But if it wasn't for those gentle arms that held me and lifted me back up again then I wouldn't be standing in front of you now. I don't know what you believe in but I'm sure of one thing,"

"Love always kills evil,"

Her eyes connect with warm baby blues before averting them quickly as she straightens up to clear her head. Her tone becoming more formal now as she speaks.

"With that, I offer my sincerest condolences to the families that are grieving. I will not promise you anything grand only that, as your queen, I shall take care and protect you to the best of my abilities," she says in a firm tone.

"Even if it costs me my life," she lets out. People can say whatever they want about her tonight, take whatever they want to take out of this but she meant every word.

Stepping down, she starts to walk back to her seat when her feet suddenly stop at the sound she hears.

"Loyalty to the queen!" a voice yells out before one by one the crowd slowly kneels down leaving Beca awkwardly gaping at the sight before her. A sight she still believes she doesn't deserve.

They say such gesture had been rare especially in the modern times and the feeling is so overwhelming that Beca takes it with her even until the formal dinner that follows afterwards. It is being held at the newly repaired grand hall of Victor Barden's West Wing.

Sitting at the center of the long table with the members of the council, facing the guests who were all seated in circular tables around the room, Beca ignores her blood wine as she absentmindedly pokes at her food until she is formally introduced to important figures that come up to her table one by one to pay their respects. By the third person, she is already smiling half-heartedly. She never one to be so good at faking warm and welcoming especially in social events like this but at least she can look unreadable. Better that way than offending someone.

Beca knows her responsibilities fully well. They come first and now that she's suddenly having this new sense of awareness of what she had been signed up for, she's starting to be careful of how she acts in public. No more crazy stunts and immature decisions. But then when it comes to privacy, oh how she badly wants to crawl into a dark room where she can finally breathe properly. To breathe on her own without the cameras following her and hundreds of pairs of eyes judging her every move. But again, responsibilities come first and she's left with no choice but to sit, shake hands and smile tiredly at people.

"Thomas Vanderbilt, heir to the Vanderbilt seat with his lovely girlfriend, Chloe Beale," her assistant announces to her next.

The name instantly wakes Beca up from her sleepy state and longing thoughts of crawling back to her bed in this very second. The possibility of her entering into hibernation after this event is extremely high and no other apocalyptic emergency is going to convince her to get up.

Standing up to face the Vanderbilts, she immediately schools her features and tries to control the loud thumping of her heart. It has been a week since her short trip to the pet shop. A week since she confirmed how she's still completely and helplessly in love with Chloe Beale. How pathetically weak she gets against the power Chloe holds on her. It's too strong.

Uncontrollable.

"Your highness," Tom greets in a formal tone as he extends his hand towards her for a brief handshake.

Beca had quickly declined the traditional kneeling down and kissing the hand of crowned royalty because it's all too much for her and she'd rather crash her beloved car to a tree than do so. She's the queen, that she knows, but she's also aware that not everyone likes her and again, she'd rather go sip on coconut juice in Hawaii than go around kissing ass like those other politicians.

"Thomas Vanderbilt," she speaks and there's tension in the air.

Nobody is surprised to be honest. It's a natural reaction between two rival families. Looking back, it must've drove everyone crazy to have seen her mother, Robbyn Du Pont, walk up to the Vanderbilts with a genuine smile and sincere gestures. Having unaccustomed to the rivalry and the vampire culture for the reason of being 'turned' at the age of 25 by Beca's father, Robbyn hadn't had any issues with the Vanderbilts. She never taught the young Beca to hate or be wary of the their long standing rivals. Instead, she had emphasized friendship, love and unity.

Robbyn Du Pont would've probably changed the rocky relationship between the Vanderbilts and the Du Ponts. She had started something beautiful. She was the reason Beca met Chloe, introducing the Vanderbilt as Beca's new best friend _._

If only she hadn't left so early.

 _Then maybe there could've been a chance._

"You've met Chloe, my girlfriend," Tom emphasizes and Beca tries to remain still as he lays a protective hand around Chloe's waist, keeping the redhead close to him. It's as if Beca would be ready to snatch her from his grasp if he lets go. However, it only makes the Du Pont want to mess with him more.

This night is getting boring after all and there's a very beautiful opportunity to piss of a Vanderbilt laid upon her right now. It'd be such a waste to let it pass by.

A little fun wouldn't hurt.

"Don't be ridiculous, Thomas," she quickly replies with a light tone as if they'd been friends for years. "Of course, I know her," she smirks. Her eyebrows arching up in amusement. This time it's she, herself, who offers her hand towards the redhead, an honour bestowed to only a few. It's uncommon for the crowned royalty to offer her hand first and is only done when awarding officers of highest rank, those who have served the crown for years, special members of the community and of course, to the person who would eventually sit next to the throne, the queen's mate.

Chloe's hand meets hers instantly and a sudden burst of energy fills Beca's tired body as if the redhead had known she needed it badly. It felt like drinking a cup of warm delicious coffee along with a soothing back massage.

"You already know that we've been closely acquainted before," she adds before smoothly bringing Chloe's hand up and pressing it to her lips, placing a gentle kiss on smooth skin. The effect is just what Beca wants to achieve as Tom's face hardens at the gesture. And besides, anything to make those soft red lips in front of her curve lightly into a genuine smile and those baby blues twinkle in amusement.

It's mesmerizing and she forgets that Tom is with them. It's only when he mutters something about the event which Beca doesn't really catch does she give him her partial attention before releasing Chloe's hand.

Time's up. The fun is over but at least Beca can carry the extra energy, no matter how small, until the night ends.

She then tries to avoid looking back at those baby blues as she and Tom head down into a conversation that mostly contains half-hearted compliments. But at least it's all civil and most importantly, short. Before she knows it, they are bidding each other farewell and all that stuff that would make her roll her eyes in any normal day. At least, she can finally sit down again and continue carving the small chunk of butter on her plate with her knife.

"Wait," Chloe suddenly says eyeing Beca. Next to her, the look of surprise in Tom's face was clear as he looks at her intently.

"I need to talk to Bec—I mean, I'd like to request an audience with her highness. It's regarding that important bill I had proposed," she throws out so casually as if she had been planning to do say it all night.

Beca doesn't reply immediately to the unexpected request. It was, well, unexpected.

"Your highness must be tired. This isn't the occasion for such matters," Tom says in a low warning tone yet Chloe doesn't budge. Even as he tries to pull her away with him, she remains still. Her eyes intently looking at her as if Beca's decline to the request was the only thing that could make her leave.

And how does one say no to those eyes?

Beca knows it'll complicate everything. She knows she should say no.

She should but she couldn't.

"No," she blurts out. "I'm never tired for important matters regarding the welfare of those under my care. Besides," she glances at Tom as she explains in hopefully a sincere tone. "It surely won't take long,"

Looking back at Chloe for confirmation, she finally exhales as the redhead eagerly nods in agreement. "Of course, your highness," she answers promptly, retracting her hand away from Tom's grip and taking a few steps towards Beca, who in turns motions for the Vanderbilt to lead the way. Tom's piercing look is telling that he doesn't approve of it but Beca has stopped caring about everything else at this point.

A couple more minutes with Chloe probably won't hurt. She'd savour it until it ends. Even though a part of her is anxious on spending time alone with the Vanderbilt whom she has avoided all week. Truth is, she hasn't seen Chloe not because she was too busy but because she chose not to despite the strong desire to see her. Instead, she turns to alcohol and other distractions to curb whatever her heart truly craves. Drowning herself in distractions to kill the longing.

She doesn't know anymore.

Chloe leads her to one of the rooms, one of the offices meant for receiving guests who would either like to inquire about the school or apply for a position.

Closing the door behind her, Beca gets straight to the point. Better to get it over with quickly as possible anyway.

"I've actually reviewed it and I think that—"

She doesn't get to finish her words as the Vanderbilt turns to her and reaches for her glasses, taking it off her face. This suddenly makes Beca feel conscious, her mask ripped out, leaving her open and bare. And if it were someone else they'd be down on the ground with their throats sliced open. But this isn't just someone and Beca Mitchell is powerless against Chloe Beale.

"That's equivalent to life imprisonment, Beale," she points out in a monotonous tone. Chloe steps closer towards her and Beca doesn't know exactly what to say next.

It's torture.

To be this close yet so far at the same time.

Beca deems that this kind of torture is what she hates the most.

"You look terrible," Chloe murmurs, worried eyes search her face and Beca had to look somewhere else from the intense scrutiny.

"You just disrespected me and now you're insulting me. That's two counts of life imprisonment now, idiot," she replies, stepping away from the close proximity. She then scans the room for something drink, preferably something strong. She needs one now.

"And you're hungover. You've been out all day, getting drunk," Chloe observes and Beca mentally curses the connection they share.

"Splendid observation skills you got there, Beale," she sarcastically says. "Ever thought of enlisting for the royal security? They clearly need fresh young minds. You should see how thick the cobwebs in the investigative department are," she mutters before cursing, this time under her breath, as she realizes that whoever owns this office leads such a healthy boring lifestyle due to the absence of a secret alcohol stash.

In the end, she settles in front of the desk, leaning back against it as she finally faces Chloe who crosses her arms in front of her chest, looking down as she shakes her head.

"Am I about to get reprimanded now?" Beca asks, interpreting the gesture as disappointment—she gets that often. "Because I just had a lot of those earlier this evening and I slept through it all which I'll probably do again if such reprimanding is given again," she explains before adding. "Also, you're on your third count of life sentence. Congratulations, you made it to the top list of the government's enemies. That's actually once a dream of mine," she muses as she distantly looks up at the ceiling. She smirks as she hears Chloe exhale heavily.

She expects a retort any time now, one that would turn into one of their three hour debates but she doesn't get one. Instead, Chloe gives her a look, the kind that makes Beca clench her fists in attempt to restrain herself from giving in. Because that's how Chloe used to look at her when she's about to give her one of those hugs that takes all of her pain away. Beca calls it the 'please let me hug you until you feel better and also will you hug me back too?' look.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Chloe softly asks because of course she feels it. The heaviness in Beca's heart. She always knows.

 _She's the only one who knows_

"No," comes her immediate answer and it is said just as softly as she looks away.

It's not something she can talk about. Not when the reason is right in front of her. And Beca think that the conversation is over. And it is, but Chloe doesn't leave. She takes a step forward, offering her hand towards her as she almost whispers, "Come here," and it makes Beca's insides twist and her chest ache.

It's tiring afterall. _Resisting all the time_

She takes Chloe's hand, her grip tightening with every second and she feels like she's under some strong spell as she lets Chloe pull her along without any question. They walk towards the sofa and Beca follows without any hesitation when Chloe gently tugs her down the cushions. They sit next to each other and only does the spell start to weaken when she feels Chloe taking one of the sofa's throw pillows to place it on her lap, patting it softly as she looks at Beca. A battle ensues inside her head and it comes out as a questioning look. This earns a sigh from the Vanderbilt as if she already knew this would happen.

Before Beca knows it, she's being pulled by the shoulders until her head lands on the pillow. When she tries to protest, she freezes when Chloe's fingers gently massage her head, right exactly where that incessant and painful throbbing was.

"I'm supposed to be out there, Beale," she tries to argue yet frustratingly, her weak tone betrays her.

"I'll you wake you up in 15 minutes. You need to rest," Chloe replies and Beca is already willing to give in.

"Well, it takes me more than that to get me to sleep," Beca counters yet her eyes seem to grow heavy as those fingers gently thread across her hair which She never lets anyone touch. Ever. But not tonight, apparently.

"Is that why you drink every day? Do you have nightmares too?"

The question blindsides her for a moment so she deflects, "Too?" and as soon as she says it, only does the gravity of what it might mean crash into her.

"I," Chloe starts and Beca feels conflict and hesitation on her part but it doesn't last. "It's gone worse after… everything that had happened. Sometimes I just wake up at night, crying," Chloe confesses and Beca's chest suddenly hurts even more. She frowns and suddenly everything but this doesn't matter. They all start to fade as an overwhelming sense of protectiveness fills up her system.

She never thought that…

She didn't think that it would…

"I actually sleep with the lights on now. It's like I'm five years old again and those monsters under the bed are back, only much scarier and…" Chloe tries to laugh it off but Beca's emotions are flaring up. Of all people, she knows exactly what it feels like. She's been through this countless times before.

"Chlo," she calls out softly, reaching out to make the Vanderbilt look down at her, those baby blues losing its vividness as Beca breaks through the façade.

"Don't worry. This is nothing. It'll go away," Chloe mumbles but Beca can see it.

The lie.

"Sunshine," she says tenderly, a tone she has never used in a very long time and the smile Chloe wears fades at the sound of it.

It is heart breaking and it claws at Beca. She swears nothing could be more painful than tears from someone you care deeply about. She hates it and it's because it makes her _feel_ again.

"This may be the last thing you'd hear me say, but unfortunately it actually helps. Talking about it to someone. Just letting it out, until it doesn't feel as heavy as it was before," she suggests. And for someone who has an outstanding record for hiding away in to her heavily armed fortress when it comes to opening up to people, Beca herself secretly admits that it's healthy to do it, at least once in a while. A very rare while.

It actually took her years to finally do so and it ultimately took a very dangerous amount of alcohol—possibly a concoction of a recreational drug in the mix as well—in her system to push her to the edge. She had held her head high up all this time until the nightmares just grew unbearable. It was her first official year in Underworld. Blood stains all over her hands. Stains that don't go away even if she had scrubbed herself clean over and over again.

It had become too much. It was unbearable until in her drunken stupor finally spilled all of it to Natasha. All the pain being exposed in the open. Back then Natasha wasn't special, until after that night. A night that was supposed to be just alcohol and sex but ended up with Beca on the floor, in Natasha's arms, crying her heart out. Having to keep things to herself for years, those lonely years where all her bottled up emotions pile up until there was just no room left to keep it in, finally breaking out from where she had hidden it.

Suddenly, things gotten a little bearable. It's a little but it has gotten her far. It's gotten her here at this exact moment.

Back to Chloe.

"Well, I couldn't… reach you all week," the Vanderbilt meekly says and that hits Beca hard. The impact was too strong that the realization of what all that meant makes her spiral out of her own orbit and truly, Chloe Beale is going to be her downfall.

"Nobody else understands,"

Beca remains quiet, letting her fingers brush away the tears that had ran down Chloe's cheeks before she can even stop. She's easily losing control that she doesn't trust herself if ever she does open her lips right at that moment. She fears that if she does so her words might betray her and expose the contents of her heart.

Chaos is the only thing that could bring and Beca won't risk it.

"This past few days I felt… were you… avoiding me, Becs?" Chloe asks weakly, there's uncertainty and something that could be akin to hurt in her tone but Beca could be mistaken.

It's driving Beca crazy. The itch to say it, the words hanging at the tip of her tongue. The ones that come straight from her broken heart. The words that could end everything and she can't let that happen. She'd rather die than lose Chloe for the second time again. She's trapped in that same shit hole and Beca knows well just how foolish that is.

She's a fool.

"What reason could I possibly have to do that? It's just," she fumbles for her words and hopes that Chloe doesn't feel the anomaly in it. "It's been a really busy, stressful week and I went clubbing all day to relax or whatever." She exhales before reluctantly admitting, "Which was probably not the perfect time to do so but you know me, I _always_ make the _perfect_ decisions,"

"I'm sorry," she quietly adds. Guess, apologizing and being sentimental is really her mood of the day.

Silence follows and Beca almost feels Chloe taking and weighing it all in before finally saying, "Don't apologize. It's understandable. You're the queen," Chloe says with a smile and this time it's genuine.

"Give me your phone,"

Without hesitation Chloe hands it to her as Beca types in a number.

"It's my personal number, not the one from the council. Don't ever tell anyone. They wanted to monitor everything, security protocol and all. Nobody knows I have this number except for a few important people and my cousins," she explains as she hands Chloe's phone back.

"You don't have to, Becs. You've got too much going on and I don't want to—"

"I'm serious Chloe," she cuts her off. "Call me," she sternly says as she looks at the Vanderbilt in the eye. "Whenever you feel like it, don't hesitate. I will answer no matter what happens. That's an order," she drives in harder.

"Order, huh, but I thought I wasn't your slave anymore?" Chloe playfully says, her smile widening as she cutely pokes Beca on her cheek. It quickly elicits a murderous look from the Du Pont.

"True but unfortunately for you, I happen to be the god damn queen. My word is the law. Idiot," she grumbles, eyebrow arching perfectly.

"And you are a good queen. A really good queen, Becs,"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a good—"

"What you did earlier. What you said up there proves that you are," Chloe says, cutting her off this time.

"I always knew you would be a queen worthy of all that admiration and respect. You say that you didn't have a choice but the truth is, there's always a choice and still you chose to carry us all up to safety instead of just giving up. It was beautiful what happened earlier. I've never seen anything like it before and you deserve all of it," Chloe warmly says and every word seems to hug Beca like a really soft and comfortable blanket.

"I had told them that I would bow to no one but you," she confesses and Beca's heart starts to hammer loudly in her chest. "I still stand by those words,"

She feels like she's about to combust and Beca is not used to being told these kinds of things that move hearts and souls. The world has always yelled curses back at her and not once has she been told that she deserved anything good. And now it feels as if eight years hadn't passed at all. It's like reliving the best years of her life all over again. That warmth, those soft caresses and gentle humming, it's all pulling back in again. She tries to fight it as hard as she could.

She tries to convince herself that none of it is real.

Good things never happen to her.

It's not—

"You said you'd take care of us all but then," Chloe pauses as Beca feels her fingers back in her hair again, massaging her scalp soothingly and running it across her light brown locks.

"I'm worried that nobody takes care of you, _truly_ takes care of you. You've been like that even back then. You've always protected me. I know it feels like I was the one who came into your life and saved you like you always say when we were kids, but it's the other way around," she softly says and Beca's eyes grow heavier with every second that passes.

It felt so good being in Chloe's arms, her presence banishing away all her worries, all of her problems, all of those worldly things, and all of those unnecessary distractions that actually keep weighing her down. Everything that makes her miserable fading away into nothing but warmth.

"You're always sacrificing yourself for people, protecting and taking care of them even though it's you who needs it the most,"

All the other noises in the back slowly ebbs away. Beca's eyes flutter close and she doesn't really know when she had finally given in to sleep. Chloe's voice like a distant lullaby in her ear. It's the best kind of music she's ever heard.

It's the only kind of music she wants to hear from now on.

Maybe at this point, it's all just a dream and all that comes next is something her mind just made up. Her unconsciousness creating things that aren't real, things she wished were real. It wasn't the first and it definitely won't be the last. Either way, it felt so satisfying to hear words she didn't know she actually longed to hear.

Words that come from Chloe's lips.

"If you'll let me, I'll be that person,"

 _How tragic_

"If you'll just let me…,"

 _This pathetic life we live_

"I'll take care of you, Becs"

 _As we always keep wanting the things we can't have_

But she wasn't Beca's and Beca wasn't hers to take care of.

And she'll never be.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 _"But tell me, as you say all those things do you really want to stop? Why are you still here then? You say you don't like it. You say you hate it. You say no. You type, you press the button and then we go round and round again. And you keep saying no. But you're still here. You keep coming back. Why is that? Well, I know why. It's because no matter how much you dislike it. No matter how much you say you hate it and how you want this and that instead. Deep down you secretly like it. You secretly want it. You're no saint nor are you the good little sweetheart you proudly brandish for the world to see. You're just like me and everyone else, an emotional masochist deep down. Sinners with dirty little fuckin' secrets. And it's extremely addicting and you're attracted to it, the pain, to the forbidden, all the 'don't's. This is a drug. Your drug. You're Beca and this is your Chloe. Or maybe, you are Chloe. And that my dear sweet friend, is the truth you keep denying. Don't worry I'm not going to stop, I won't stop. We're going to go at it all night, love"_

- ** _redchocopanda_** _(on Midnight Sunshine's critics as she sits on the kitchen floor, eating a bowl of cookie dough because she's too lazy to bake them) 2018_

 _..._

So Kendrick says that Snow is her sunshine, which of course she is and then Kendrick says she's a rain cloud and you know what? Know what? I initially wanted Beca be called _Rain_. But I figured that's going to be a shitty title- Sunshine Rain- or is it? Oh well fuck me and missed opportunities.

The hell you talking about? I'm always drunk when I write. Cheers, fam!

Also, no I'm not secretly Anna Kendrick. If I was, I won't have the time sign up in this website to write brilliant unrealistic shit weekly about two fictional characters, one of which I play. Like, seriously how?

Thanks for following, adding MS to your favorites and commenting or reviewing. Always remember if life is shitty, know that it's the same for everyone else so why stress? Why wake up early to go to the gym and diet? You look gorgeous. Eat what you love (except if your family has a medical history with heart or gastric problems or allergies), drink whatever you like (except for poison and piss) and jam to the 1975 or Camila's new album in your undies or whatever.


	18. Cause We're Living In A World Of Fools

**Chapter 18**

* * *

Chloe was seven years old when she was introduced to the concept of care. It happened on a Saturday morning when a small incessant cry rings out at the backyard of the massive Beale residence. Being a very curious child, Chloe finds a stray kitten left by its mother just underneath the bushes. Naturally, she picks it up and brings it inside the house to shows it to the house help who was kind enough to nurse it back to health. The young Vanderbilt had been so adamant not to leave the kitten until it 'got better', despite her mother wanting to 'put it back outside'.

Even since then Chloe had a soft spot for the abandoned and oppressed. Paired with her ability to be-friend people, whoever they are or no matter how cold their hearts may be. Everyone just seems to easily give in to that bright warm smile and exquisitely blue puppy eyes. She just had this ability to make people warm up to her easily.

Which is also probably the main reason why nobody can seem to reject the Vanderbilt princess. She had everyone's attention. Everyone's love.

It's no surprise she'd earn Rafaele Vanderbilt's full attention. The head of the Vanderbilt bloodline was so fond of Chloe that he had repeatedly mentioned how perfect it would be to have her seated next to the throne.

Chloe hadn't understood what that meant back then. All she knew was that she'd become a real life princess when she grew up. Excitedly, she waits for the day that she'd have her own crown and live in her own castle, just as her mother had promised she'd have someday. But for now, she should go and play with her cousins, especially Thomas or Tommy as Chloe keeps calling him.

He was her uncle Rafaele's only son who is currently staying in Maryland for the summer with his sister, Claire and their mother. When the season changes, her cousins would eventually return back to their home in Italy where half the Vanderbilts came from. The bloodline had actually originated from America until they inter-married with their distant Italian relatives, also a rich vampire clan, the Posens.

Being the social butterfly that she is, Chloe doesn't find it hard mingling with her cousins. She was too busy meeting new friends to play with that she doesn't see the satisfied looks coming from her parents and Tom's. Her first impression of him wasn't that bad nor was it that good. They had watched the fishes swimming in the pond. It's only unfortunate that they didn't share the same taste for sweets. He preferred caramel and she loved chocolate. That marked the day when she first met him. Afterwards, they'd part ways until Chloe turns seventeen.

In between that ten year gap, Chloe would soon learn that her life wasn't was as perfect as she had thought it to be. She'd soon realize that her life has already been planned out and that she has a huge role to play in their bloodline. That despite what they say, in the end she'd still end up without a choice.

This time, the concept of care for the teenaged Vanderbilt changes. She was meant to give her care and protection to only one person, the heir of their bloodline, their own candidate for the throne, Tom.

It doesn't even help that she had lost something or better yet, someone precious to her. Someone whom she deeply cared about. Because it turns out, everything is just temporary.

Now, the things is, the role of the bloodline heir in all of the five bloodlines is very much apparent and known to all. One of them was bound to be crowned in the future and that keeps them underneath the spotlight. But then what wasn't being focused on more was the role of their beloved other half. The second most powerful person in the council. Although some would argue that they are in fact more powerful than their crowned mates, it's not a secret that their opinions on important matters are taken seriously, their influence felt strongly and in the absence of the crowned royalty, they are to take their place.

Chloe would only shake her head whenever her friends would gush about marrying an elite heir and dreamily sigh about being the crowned royalty's mate. They'd talk about how lucky it is to be seated next to the throne and how big of an honour it would be to be chosen. They'd then squeal about a royal romance, of the most extravagant wedding it would be and to live with such luxury in a castle of their own.

But not Chloe, no, she'd rather tune out of the topic and dream of travelling the world, cozy mornings wrapped in warm arms, laughter ringing in every corner of a simple flat somewhere in the city or maybe the countryside, silly dancing to a good beat and lots of ice-cream dates. It's a life she had once planned with someone special.

It's a dangerous thought to dwell upon and Chloe always pulls out of it before it goes too far and open up wounds that still bleed underneath the cloth she's tried to cover it with.

The truth is, if only she could, Chloe would tell them what it's like taking the seat next to the throne. How it's far from what they think. Because in reality, it's not easy. Half the weight of the crown isn't even light with all the responsibilities that come along with it as well. None of her friends had been brought up having to be reminded of all those responsibilities almost every day.

What's worse is, it's much harder for a Vanderbilt than the rest of the elites. At least for the other four, they still had the freedom to choose. And for those whom they marry, they would then start preparing for the role they'd take. The role, Chloe had been taught ever since she was young.

To be perfect.

To hide her flaws.

To project the true definition of being an elite.

"What if I don't end up want to be with Tom? What if... I want to be with somebody else?"

That was the question that escaped out of her lips when she sat with her parents for dinner a week after school had started, eyes down her plate and food barely touched. Chloe has turned seventeen that year. Flashes of lightning sparked and the sound of thunder rumbled outside their home. Chloe hates gloomy weathers and thunder scares her but it took no effect on her as her parents looked at her. She didn't even have to wait for them to talk, the expression of anger and disbelief from the both of them was enough for her to know the answer. In the end she had stood up and walked away from her parent's strong reprimanding.

That was the first time she openly defied them.

And maybe it all has to do with the return of someone Chloe thought she might never see again.

The girl who brought the storm with her.

As she locks herself up in her room, her parents' words follow her.

" _You haven't even seem him in a long time,"_

" _Why would you even think that? Tom is a good young man. He'd be a perfect husband and a great leader one day,"_

" _Both of you are perfect together. What more are you looking for?"_

No match as perfect as her and Tom? It's funny how Chloe was ready to contest to that until she kicks the breaks suddenly when she realizes where she was going with it. Because there she was again, re-oppening wounds that are supposed to have healed. But it's too late. She's already crashed. For her mind had already wandered far enough for her to stop. It flew towards serene weeping willows, stormy blue eyes and long dark brown hair. Back to that time she wished to play on loop forever.

Perhaps it's better to finally admit it. That after all these years, Chloe is still waiting.

Waiting for the other half of her soul to return.

And return it did.

She remembered earlier that day how her heart refused to stop beating loudly in her chest even as Beca vanished off to a corner of Constantine Albert's hallways. The Du Pont heir had long gone but the effect she left on Chloe remains. For the first time in a long time, the hollow shell Chloe had become slowly starts to fill up once more, her world bathing in a swirl of beautiful colours and it overwhelms her.

It was then that Chloe starts to _care_ again.

"Hey,"

A word so simple and casual yet it can hold so many meanings that it hangs heavily between them. So she waits anxiously and nervously but at the same time, hopeful. It had been a week since the school's annual race relay and the events that had ensued, specifically, Chloe's very strong and aggressive method of winning, has made this meeting ten thousand times awkward than what she had expected. It doesn't even help that they also shared deep history together. History which desperately needed closure.

Stormy blue look piercingly at her and Chloe's heart increases its rate that she might as well be running a marathon. But could anyone blame her? Beca looked good, extremely good and it was making Chloe tongue-tied. She then decides to let the silence stretch as blurting out a bunch of incoherent words would only embarrass her further.

The Du Pont is beautiful with sharp jawline, smooth clear skin, long eyelashes that rivals her own and lips as soft as Chloe remembers them to be, her lips still feeling the intimate contact even after a week and it was driving her crazy.

"Come here to gloat, Vanderbilt?"

Beca's voice sounds good, there's a husky undertone to it and Chloe wonders if that very voice can belt out a beautiful tune. Snapping out of her musings, she admits that it's not the greeting she was hoping for but she also acknowledges that she did deserve it.

"I—No, I wasn't. I actually wanted to talk to you—if it isn't a bad time,"

And of course she stutters and trips in her words. For someone who had been bred to have perfected in the art of conversation and public speaking, she's already failed, crashed and burned.

Beca's emotions are unreadable and Chloe soon becomes conscious at the intense focus of those lovely dark blue eyes. It's like standing before the jury who would all be scrutinizing her every move. But surely, Beca would let her—

"It's a bad time,"

Those words felt like a slap and there goes her first attempt. To say that she was disappointed was an understatement. Beca had so easily turned her back on her, leaving her comfortable spot in the library to walk out and blatantly show her how much free time she actually has by sleeping on one of the benches in their soccer field.

Chloe's second attempt comes after two days, two days after Beca starts making a living target out of her without even an explanation why. Although deep down, Chloe already knows why and it's definitely not just about that stupid race anymore. So, before things escalate, Chloe tries to talk to Beca for the second time.

It backfires on her face.

Despite all her sincerest efforts to get the Du Pont to listen and just talk to her, Beca remains unreasonably cold. The more Chloe tries, the harsher the Du Pont becomes towards her.

It's starting to hurt but Chloe knew she had to keep trying.

It was her fault anyway.

She had to get back what she had lost and there's no way she's letting it go again.

By what feels like her millionth and, unknowingly, final attempt, a year had gone by and everyone in school is already aware of the rivalry they say they have. It has become some sort of scandalous entertainment that has now spread outside the school's walls that the Kardashians would've been threatened by the growing popularity of their rivalry. Even Aubrey, who isn't a fan of scandals, says it's ridiculous that she out of all the Vanderbilts would be the first to be involved in something like that. And now everyone is making an even more big of a deal about it now that they are pulling out stories about the equally scandalous rivalry between their very own fathers. Darius Du Pont and Markus Beale, both team captains of their rival soccer teams. The displayed trophies and photos of both their fathers' rivalry in a display cabinet mocking Chloe even more.

But the worst part is, the more people talk, the more the rumours spread, the farther she drifts away from Beca and that's not what she plans on happening.

Honestly, she hadn't thought that this specific attempt would be final. She actually thought otherwise. That this would finally break the wall between them. She had been bent on making sure that this time, Beca will hear what she has to say whether the Du Pont likes it or not. Beca had to know the truth. Chloe wants nothing more than to have her back in her life.

She had been so sure that this was it, the closure they needed in order for them to start fresh. Her Midnight was still in there and Chloe desperately wanted to let Beca know that she still _cares_.

If only she had known how deep Beca had buried that part of herself then maybe Chloe wouldn't have kept pushing harder. Maybe it would spare her from the hurt and the pain.

"Beca, please listen to me! I don't want us to keep fighting. I don't want to fight you!" she says in a pleading tone as she hurriedly walks behind the Du Pont, trying to match Beca's pace as she starts jogging behind her.

They were heading towards the abandoned gym, the old one or the one that clearly says 'Closed, keep off'. There's dust and rusty equipment but Chloe couldn't care less. It doesn't matter if she was breaking the rules and jeopardizing her reputation. The only thing she sees now is the brunette walking in front of her, deaf to her pleas.

Out of frustration, she reaches out to Beca, her hand grabbing on to the Du Pont's wrist in order to make her stop. A mistake Chloe was late to realize until it happens.

In a flash, she's suddenly pushed against a corner, her back hitting concrete. She whimpers in pain at the impact. More so when a hand firmly grips her throat while the other on her shoulder, holding her in place. The hostile grip on her shirt causes a tear on the neck line of the fabric. The cloth rips, exposing her neck down to her right shoulder. The hand constricting her throat forcibly moves her head to the side as she finally realizes what is happening. She hears a low growl and feels two sharp fangs grazing the tender skin on her neck, ready to sink into soft flesh.

But as fast as her shock came, it fades just as quick. Instead of fighting back, the hand holding on to the Du Pont's arm moves down to her elbows, gently pulling Beca close to her. Her other hand does exactly the same, sliding around Beca's waist instead of pushing away. Fingers grasping on to the cotton fabric underneath the leather jacket.

"Do it," she says in between ragged breaths, her voice shaking as the tears slowly fall down her cheeks one by one.

"If it's what appeases your anger, do it. If this is the only way then go ahead," she shuts her eyes closed, prepared for anything.

Shakily she sorrowfully adds, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted what had happened. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Becs,"

"Shut it!" Beca growls and Chloe flinches at the violent tone. Yet it still doesn't make her fear the Du Pont. Never. No matter how many years have passed. No matter what kind of person Beca has become. No matter what she says, to Chloe, she's still the Beca she met.

Her Beca would never hurt her completely.

Chloe would rather be an idiot than think otherwise.

Warm breath hits her neck heavily as she feels Beca's chest heaving from the rush of emotions. It only makes Chloe pull her closer, Beca's body pressed against her that she could feel the Du Pont's heartbeat.

Beca's fangs start to dig into flesh but don't cut through it as she stops, leaning her forehead against the side of Chloe's head, her lips brushing against the shell of her ear as she speaks. And Chloe knows it's a bad time to feel her stomach stir and her body to heat up at the intimacy.

"No," she breathes out, creating goose bumps all over the back of Chloe's neck. "I won't accept it," she slowly lets out, emphasizing every word as Chloe feels her heart sinking.

"I want you to suffer so you'll know what it feels like to stand outside a door wondering if it'll ever open," she says through gritted teeth. "I want you to keep knocking, crying and screaming until you'll realize that it'll remain closed forever. That it'll never be the same again and that I'll hate you, _always and until the end_ ," Beca pulls away just as harshly, taking a few steps back as she glares at her with those very eyes Chloe loves.

"Don't ever come near me again or else, god help me, I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself next time," she says before turning away. Leaving Chloe slowly sliding down to the ground, her legs weakly giving way as she breaks into a sob, crying into the palm of her hands.

Words hurt, that she can attest. Sometimes it hurts harder than physical pain. Most especially if they come from someone you care about so deeply.

It rips your heart and soul to shreds, leaving you broken.

She doesn't feel anything. Her heart numb to everything as she looks at herself in the mirror, the classy red dress she wore looked perfect, her matching expensive high heels are perfect, her make-up for the evening looked perfect and her hair, pinned to one side, styled in wavy curls that flowed down to her shoulders looked perfect.

She continues to blankly stare until her eyes land down to the bruise on her neck. The one she got just yesterday. The one Beca gave her. It was fading now but it was still noticeable on closer inspection. So she takes her make-up and slowly covers it up. She stills halfway through as a realization sinks in. That this was the story of her life, covering up the bad in order to show only the good. She would've cried if only she still had tears to conjure up from inside her. But she already emptied all of it yesterday.

She finally finishes and it looks like it was never even there. It only makes her feel like it's the end. This was the conclusion of all those eight years of wondering and wishing, of hoping and dreaming.

It was the end of _them_.

The death of a friendship.

And it's as painful as any kind of unfortunate ending, maybe in her case, even more.

She takes her diamond necklace and puts it on around her neck. Her feet move as she turns to the door, pausing for a moment as her fingers close in on the knob. She inhales deeply and closes her eyes before opening them again. She twists the handle and once she pulls the door open, a smile replaces the sadness. That's what she does best after all.

Covering up the flaws.

When she steps down the staircase, Tom's waiting with her parents. He smiles at her before handing over the bouquet of red roses and she politely thanks him. After months of asking, tonight was the night she finally agreed to his invitation. The night when her time's finally up. Time which she had demanded from her parents.

Coincidence?

Maybe not.

Maybe there's a reason why she's fought so hard to put her meeting with Tom on hold. And maybe a pair of stormy blue eyes are the reason.

It takes two more years until she finally says yes. And maybe that's not coincidence either. Maybe a part of her, no matter how she denies it, is still waiting. But she keeps denying because eventually a heart can learn to _love_.

She can learn. She only has to believe in it. Maybe if she thinks it over and over again, says it more often and makes herself believe in it then it may become real.

That she was content.

That she was happy.

 _That she was in love with Tom._

Her second year of college was the year she vows that she'd be better than ever before. She focuses on her classes more, actively working on organizations and projects. The constant cycle of study, exercise and spending lots of time with Tom becomes a regular thing. Because she's supposed to be perfect. The perfect student, the perfect daughter, the perfect friend and now the perfect girlfriend.

But then just as she thinks that she's finally managed to achieve that, the storm that is Beca Mitchell comes back to hit her world once more. And maybe some things are meant to end so they can start something even more beautiful than before.

Maybe death wasn't the end.

It was the beginning.

Everyone has a bad habit they just can't kick away. Sometimes it lessens but most times it never really goes away. Beca is Chloe's bad habit. Because she'd soon find out that no matter how many 'I love you's she throws back at Tom. No matter how many times she tries to believe in each and every one of it. She could never say the one thing that holds just as much meaning as 'I love you', maybe even more.

"I'll take care of you,"

The words that solidifies the fact that she was Tom's. That she was going to be his queen and those words are what she is going to swear when they finally become one. She psyches herself that maybe she just needed more time. To be ready. To prepare herself for the life she is destined to live.

Until she finally does.

She lets them slip out of her lips in a way that she has never said anything before. The utter truth coming straight from her heart. She says them like a prayer, softly and passionately.

"If you'll let me, I'll be that person," she says as she tenderly caresses the face of the sleeping person she deeply feels connected to with shaking fingers.

"If you'll just let me…," she trails off as it all sinks in. She finally understands the constant turmoil in her head now that she can put it all into words. The center of her world shifting focus, back into its one true home.

"I'll take care of you, Becs" she says to the one person in the world she swears to protect until she takes her last breath.

She presses a soft kiss on the Du Pont's forehead, sealing the promise and for the first time in such a long time, Chloe finally feels alive and emancipated.

And it is then that finally the sun fell completely and madly in love with the moon.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Say hello to Midnight Sunshine's shortest chapter.**

 **I guess you can say that the countdown begins until everything goes boom.**

Thanks for following, adding MS to your favorites and commenting or reviewing. Always remember a double fanfic update in a week keeps cute adorable readers healthy. Gotta take care of the sweethearts.


	19. Breakin' Us Down

**Chapter 19**

* * *

"What was that about?"

That's the question that is thrown in Chloe's face as she enters her room, Tom following behind her. They've just arrived back at the Vanderbilt manor from the memorial ceremony dinner. Aubrey had given her a worried look, the one that has a lot of questions beneath it. Chloe doesn't blame her, the tension between her and Tom is hanging heavily in the air like some stench coming from the sewers. And to be honest, she's too tired to deal with whatever it is right now. Sleeping it off might be a much better step and Chloe prefers that rather than tackling it down head first like what Tom wants to do right at that very moment.

"I've already told you what it is about. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? We talked that's it," she replies in a tired tone as she takes off her jewelry, putting them all in her jewelry box lazily.

"How interesting is the topic that you have to lock yourselves up in a room for almost three hours? What is it? Beauty tips? Fashion?"

There's a bite in his words, the accusing tone as clear as day and Chloe's patience is wearing thin. Anger slowly bubbles up in her chest and if he doesn't stop things might go from bad to worse. Which sucks because she just had dream-less sleep for almost three hours and it gives a sense of peace to her weary soul until Tom starts talking. It is then the heaviness starts to return and Chloe desperately holds to the feeling security, of comfortable warmth and of drifting off into a very much needed sleep—even if it was just two and a half hours.

And yes, maybe when Beca woke her up— _'Fifteen minutes, huh,', 'Sorry Becs, I… I fell asleep', 'Obviously,'_ —and both of them awkwardly stood apart each other it's like they were caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. But really, nothing happened.

"I never question any of your late night meetings," she retorts under her breath before she can even control herself as she sits, staring down at the floor where her high heels lay.

"What did you just say?" Tom asks in disbelief.

The question and the tone makes her mind go blank, boiling water spilling off the brim. Slowly, she turns her head towards him and for a second there he seemed to be taken a back.

"I said I don't question your fucking late night meetings so you don't have the right to question mine," she spats at him, eyes filled with anger.

"This isn't—"

"I'm not just for display, Tom. I am also capable of doing the same things you are doing!" she bursts out before realizing what is happening and tries to breathe in. The silence that follows is deadly and Chloe has a more than a million places she'd like to be right now. Anywhere but where she's at right now.

"I'm tired. I really want to sleep," she says in a much calmer tone before standing up to head to the bathroom, closing the door behind her harder than she had intended. Sitting down the bathroom floor with her head in her hands, she finally hears her bedroom door close just as hard as Tom walks away.

Taking in another deep breath, Chloe leans her head back against the bathroom's door as she stares up, tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. Closing them shut, she imagines drifting back into the happy bubble she was in earlier. It felt safe.

Chloe feels safe in it.

She wishes she could stay in it forever.

But it's hard to do that when she feels like everything is going wrong. So she unconsciously clutches on to her phone, her thumb swiping across it before it lights up. She scrolls through her contacts until she finds the number she desperately want to press.

And it's funny how something so simple could actually bring a small smile to her face.

 **Selene Laurent**

That's the name Beca actually keyed her number in because _'Nobody's going to know that it's me, Chloe,'_

She contemplates on the green telephone symbol for a while. Looking at it like a lighthouse on a dark bleak night.

"I'm here," comes the voice that washes over Chloe with relief. It actually surprised her that Beca did pick up the call, answering it on the second ring as if she had been waiting for it.

"Can't sleep," she exhales through the receiver before quickly adding, "But it's not because of the nightmares. There's something else bugging me,"

"Is this about kittens or food?" Beca asks monotonously and Chloe's smile widens.

"Neither,"

"So, we're back to unicorns,"

"Nope, not unicorns,"

"This better be worth my time. I'm already regretting this decision of giving you my number,"

"This is a legit question that I really am curious about," she answers in between soft chuckles as she hears Beca mumble about fire and the end of the world.

"And it's too late for you to regret. Do you know that you have a lovely telephone voice?"

"Get straight to the point, idiot," Beca cuts in as Chloe pauses for a bit to prepare her burning question.

"Do you sing? Like really sing?" she asks. "'Cause I've seen your guitar by your bed and the sound equipment in your room," she says with a bit of hesitation, letting the sentence hang in the air for a while as she waits for Beca to catch on.

Of course, she does.

"If the follow-up question to this is what I think it is, then no,"

"So you can sing!" she blurts out, the heaviness in her chest easily dissipating as their conversation lengthens.

"That's not what I said. I'm hanging up. Bye,"

"Don't! Please, I can't sleep Becs," she whines while the other line goes silent until Chloe hears a sigh.

"Fine. Ask," comes the resigned tone and the smile is back in Chloe's lips.

"Will you sing me to sleep?" she asks and Beca mutters about being queen, stupid puppies and idiot slaves.

There's another round of silence until the Du Pont finally speaks again.

"I'll go grab my guitar,"

In a minute, Chloe hears a distinct chord being strung followed by a pause then another one. She hears Beca clear her throat.

"Just so you know, you owe me blueberry pancakes after this," she mutters and Chloe lets out a light laugh, pressing the phone more against her ear as she listens intently.

Beca's voice softly flows through the receiver like gentle waves washing ashore and Chloe decides it's a lovely sound. Add in the relaxed strumming and it's already enough to soothe one's soul. Chloe immediately recognizes the song. It also happens to be one of her favourites, 'No One's Gonna' Love You' by Band of Horses.

And as Chloe's eyes start to grow heavy, it's a pleasant thought to know that somehow even in music they are connected.

It's as if even with those eight years of being separated by distance, something's still managed to bind them together and it bled through in a passion they both share.

* * *

Sleeping in the bathtub isn't comfortable. That's what Chloe learns when she wakes up with a stiff neck, her muscles complaining with her every move. At least she didn't have nightmares. Glancing down at her phone, she remembers drifting off to sleep amidst the soft strumming and the gentle voice singing to her.

It also hits her that Beca doesn't only play the guitar well, she's also a very good singer. It's even more adorable that the Du Pont doesn't seem to know that she is indeed a talented singer and Chloe is wondering if she ever considered a capella.

Maybe she can subtly try to suggest it later. Subtly.

 _Later_

The thought of seeing Beca puts a genuine smile on her lips and a bounce to her step as she gets ready for her first class of the evening. It'll be a good night and that's what she hoped for until she opens her door.

Claire Vanderbilt.

The older Vanderbilt had her arms crossed as she leans by the side of the door, looking at her in a way that reminds Chloe of the time she had discovered of Chloe's secret. And now suddenly the hope of a perfect evening disappears like smoke.

"Tom and I have fights. It's normal," she answers without even waiting for her to speak. Claire may not be the nicest and easiest person to be with but when it comes to her brother, she's the sister you do not want to mess with. Being blood related can't even save you from that signature Vanderbilt icy glare.

"How about this? Do you call this normal?" she replies in an equally icy tone as she tosses a couple of photos over at Chloe's side table near the flower vase.

Stolen photos.

Photos that showed her and Beca coming out of the office last night. It wouldn't have been such a big deal if it didn't seem like they were coming from some secret romantic rendezvous with Beca's hand on her arm. Chloe remembers that moment.

They were heading back to the party when Beca suddenly held on to her arm, stopping her in her tracks to remind Chloe that if she ever needed anything, whatever it is, that she'd be there for her. It didn't take long after that for Chloe to wrap her arms around the Du Pont to whisper softly into Beca's ear.

" _Thank you for coming back, Midnight,"_

She remembers how good it felt to have Beca slowly bring up her own arms to hug her back. It was light and cautious but it was a start.

There was only one thing Chloe wished for at that moment and that is to stay longer in Beca's arms. She could just fall asleep in them and forget the world. With the scent of Beca's perfume lingering, at some point, it becomes a desperate wish.

Now as Chloe stares at those photos and it is funny how a part of her still finds humour in wondering if she could keep them. They are beautiful after all. Maybe she should compliment the quality of the photos out loud and talk about sticking them to the side of her vanity mirror. Claire's probably going to flip at that though. Probably throw one of her most precious high heels towards Chloe. But then she can dodge that one and throw it back at her. Straight at her irritating face.

Guess, Beca's sarcasm and dark humour is slowly rubbing off on her.

"Looks familiar, doesn't it?" Claire speaks, tilting her head to the side. "The only difference now is my brother's much more involved in this mess too. I've had to pay a huge amount of money for them not to publish those and maybe I added the fact that I can make them rot for centuries in a dungeon,"

Claire steps forward, foreboding and threatening yet Chloe doesn't even flinch. She's not 11 years old anymore. She's not weak or helpless. She's not afraid.

Not when it comes to protecting someone she cares deeply for.

"Nevertheless, I don't like what I'm seeing, Chloe. We've been through this before. My brother has set his eyes on you ever since then and the last thing I want is him getting hurt because you're too weak to resist getting lured in by that slut who doesn't even deserve to carry the crown! It's unbelievable how foolish they all are to bow down to her as she sputters all those lies when the truth is, she's been in the club all day doing everyone she can get her hands on and getting drunk," Claire presses on and despite trying hard not to, Chloe feels the sting in those last few words.

"What, so you are back to being 'buddies' again? That looks a little intimate for a friendly hug. Are you going to what, practice French kissing next? Or has she gotten what she wanted from you already? She's an expert deceiver and you're falling right in her dirty little trap,"

That was it.

"It really does take a slut to know one," she says lowly, throwing her own icy glare. It makes the older Vanderbilt in front of her shake in anger. And as Claire opens her lips to counter, Chloe beats her to it.

"You better think about it twice before you speak. She's not only a queen I serve, she's also my best friend. Oh, that's right, you don't even know what that means. You don't even have one and I really pity you for that. But if you dare say one more word against Beca, I will hurt you," she almost growls lowly as she takes a step forward and this time it's Claire who is backing away.

Chloe then moves to step around her, planning to leave as soon as possible but a hand quickly grips her by the wrist as Claire stops her, "Are you seriously threatening me?"

But Claire's words don't have any effect as Chloe harshly wrenches her hand free, fangs sliding down as she grits her teeth with anger, giving her cousin a look that nobody wants to mess with.

"I am and if you love life, you wouldn't want to put that to the test,"

She walks off, hating the fact that her evening is pretty much ruined before it even started. Her mood has drastically gone down the drain and honestly, she really doesn't feel like going to her classes.

Chloe had never missed a class on purpose. It's only either she is sick or in an important school related event like say, an a capella competition that she becomes absent. Her steps come to a stop before she reaches her classroom. Aubrey who was walking in front of her also stops as she feels Chloe's hesitation.

"What's wrong?" she asks and when Chloe doesn't answer immediately Aubrey worriedly looks at her. "Chlo?"

Finally finding her words, she looks back up at her cousin, "I'm not really feeling well. You go ahead, I'll just go… get some fresh air," she mumbles, throwing a confused Aubrey an apologetic look as she takes a few steps back before turning around to hurriedly walk in the opposite direction. Her feet taking her far before her mind could even catch up. When she becomes aware of the direction she is taking, she finds herself heading towards the main gate.

In order for a student to travel out of school grounds for whatever emergency reason, a request for a car is to be made and that actually takes quite a while. Chloe, however is an elite and elites have their own cars on stand-by but then her cousins would surely find out. She doesn't have time for a million questions and another round of stressful arguments.

She wanted to escape.

Sighing, she opts to sit down a nearby bench instead. At least it's quiet. Until she smells a familiar scent, hears the thumping of a heartbeat followed by the hypnotizing voice that had sung her to sleep last night. In a second, she looks up and around.

"Becs?" she murmurs before standing up and walking further towards the gate until she spots movement behind one of the trees. Beca's black Bugatti parked in its special spot as Beca herself leans against it, eyes focused on her phone as she types something in it.

"I think you're class just started 10 minutes ago," the Du Pont says without even looking up at her. And this gives Chloe the luxury of looking at her from head to toe—because damn, military jackets and black leather short shorts are always a sexy combination.

Averting her eyes when Beca finally looks up at her, Chloe instantly sputters a reply, "I'm skipping class,"

The look of shock in Beca's face is priceless. It quickly fades though and the Du Pont nods.

"Cool," the Du Pont says before stashing her phone away and putting on her sunglasses.

"You're skipping classes too?" Chloe asks, watching Beca's graceful movements.

"I never attend any of my classes and it's not going to change just because I'm queen," Beca smirks before opening the door of her car and moving to get in. But then she stops mid-enter, pausing for a while before moving back out again to face her.

"Just get in before I change my mind," she huffs and Chloe squeals in delight before excitedly running towards the other side of the car to sit next to her.

Eyeing the car's impressive audio system, she then turns to look at the Du Pont who is now choosing a song to play. "Where are we going?"

Damage by PARTYNEXTDOOR turns out to be the song choice as Beca reaches over to Chloe's side to grab on to the seatbelt, making Chloe's breath hitch at the close proximity. She locks it in place and Chloe mumbles a 'thanks' before she questions again, hoping to get an answer this time. "So, am I going to finally find out where you run off to all the time?"

She gets another smirk as they start slowly driving out of the campus, security personnel bowing down as they pass by and finally Beca gives her a reply.

"Maybe,"

Just as she says that, she steps on the gas and Chloe is holding on to dear life. Warping through space probably feels like this, it's slightly uncomfortable but on the other hand, it's like the kind of exhilarating fun you get in amusement parks. Chloe loves going to amusement parks. It's in her bucket list of things to do on a date. Sadly, she crossed that one out months ago since Tom hates crowded places.

Beca sharply turns at a curve and instinctively, Chloe's hand flies towards the Du Pont's, squeezing it tightly.

"Sorry," she mumbles, loosening her grip.

"Do you want me to slow down?" Beca asks and it makes Chloe's insides flutter.

"No, just keep going,"

And maybe Chloe would've released Beca's hand if she hadn't felt the light re-assuring squeeze. She ends up holding Beca's hand until they stop at their destination thirty minutes later.

Of course, this was where Beca goes to.

A club.

Specifically, Club Dusk. Chloe's certainly not dressed for a club but she isn't going to let that stop her from improvising. Pulling down her hair tie, she lets her hair cascade down her shoulders, running her hands through it. She then rolls her sleeves up to her elbows and adjusts her skirt as she steps out the car.

When Beca looks back at her just before they enter the VIP entrance she pauses and maybe it's all in her head but it did seem like the Du Pont's eyes had wandered down her outfit appreciatively. But again, it could all be in her head.

Still, the thought makes her blush.

They enter and Chloe bathes in the party atmosphere. Even though she's used to it, there's an obvious difference in being in a club without her usual group of friends and going with someone who makes your heart pitter-patter all over the place. She follows Beca as they start heading for the bar, manoeuvring carefully among bodies. In the midst of all that Beca's hand finds hers like she knew that Chloe was searching for hers.

She doesn't let go and Chloe doesn't plan on it either.

They reach the bar and the bartender whom Beca calls, Flo, gives Beca a look of surprise and an amused look towards her way before serving them their drink of choice. Chloe chooses a fruity cocktail and Beca unsurprisingly goes for something stronger.

"Five till show time!" Flo reminds Beca and Chloe looks at them in confusion until the Du Pont stands up and looks at her. That light touch behind Chloe's back doesn't go unnoticed and it doesn't even help when Beca leans over for her so Chloe can hear her. Those dark blues getting even more prominent as she moves closer towards her.

"Any song requests?" Beca asks and Chloe starts mentally choosing what song matches her mood.

In the end, she settles with, "Chocolate"

Beca tilts her head adorably as she racks her head for a song called 'Chocolate' and Chloe thinks maybe she should give vague answers often if that's the cute reaction she gets. Especially if their faces are only inches apart from each other.

"The 1975?" she asks and Chloe nods eagerly with a growing smile on her lips.

"'Cause I love the band, I love chocolate and most of all, it has your name in it!"

A look of clarity passes Beca's face as she looks up, a small 'oh' forming in her lips as she remembers the lyrics and the genuine smile painting her lips is gorgeous that Chloe wishes she'd smile like that more. _Or perhaps smile only at her that way._ "Right, anything else?"

"Nope, that's it. The DJ a friend of yours?" she asks but Beca doesn't say anything and gives her only a smirk as a reply. Before Chloe knows it, she's being pulled towards the front, at the side of the stage where Beca tells her is the best spot to dance in the club before throwing her a simple, "Be back in a moment,"

The Du Pont then steps up to the DJ's booth where she is greeted with a friendly handshake by the current DJ manning it. He then taps her on the back before bidding the crowd a wild night and stepping down and that's when Chloe realizes what's happening.

A wild night it is going to be.

Beca makes magic. It's how Chloe describes her music. Magic. It's hypnotizing, exhilarating and very beautiful. She loves how much passion Beca pours into her creations. It's almost like her oxygen and Chloe can relate to it because that's how it is for her too. But more importantly, Beca herself is art and Chloe can go on forever describing all her intricate details. Suddenly, Chloe finds that she begins to slowly understand more about the elusive Du Pont.

Her best friend may have grown up but some things still stay the same.

Chloe doesn't find it hard to dance to the beat and she's sweating by the time Beca announces her final song, a special request from a special person as she describes. And Chloe's heart seems to expand as she hears the familiar tune, underneath layers of mixed beats. Beca then sings for the first time into the mic, recording it and playing it on loop as she creates the remixed song on the spot. One that she made for her. She gazes down at Chloe and the wink she gives her should illegal. Beca Mitchell herself should be illegal because she's doing nothing good to Chloe's health, both physically and mentally.

"Hey," Beca starts as slides next to Chloe at the bar.

Smiling, Chloe swivels her chair so she face the Du Pont better, "So, anything else you want to tell me now? Do you also own the club?" she asks as Beca takes a sip of her drink before shaking her head.

"The owner is a friend of mine. Met her and her wife at their club in L.A., Club Bellisimo, and well, we had an easy conversation and I ended up with a job," Beca shrugs and takes another sip of her drink.

Chloe nods, staring down at her own drink as she says, "I loved your version of the song. It's going to be on my top favorites,"

She feels Beca look her way, lips starting to move as she begins to say, "I made it for—" but she gets cut off as a body comes in between them, creating a barrier in the middle which leaves Chloe feeling cold all of a sudden.

"Hey babe," the girl coos. There's a distinct familiarity in it as if they are close acquaintances and the rather intimate gestures prove it to be true. The woman's arm sliding around Beca's shoulders.

Chloe takes a sip from her drink and suddenly it tastes like water. She needed something else, maybe something stronger to cover the sudden weird pinch at the center of her chest.

"Chloe, my childhood best friend," Beca introduces her and Chloe throws the woman a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes followed by what sounds like a friendly greeting—or so she hopes it sounds. It's hard to be nice when she feels like she's about to break into pieces.

"She's lovely, Beca. I was hoping to have fun with you tonight but it seems like you already have company," the woman drawls, throwing Beca a knowing look before whispering something in her ear. Something that Chloe doesn't want to hear so she tunes it out, focusing on something else with her eyes down on her drink. Sometimes special vampire abilities are a curse.

Having intensely focusing on the loud beats surrounding the whole place, she doesn't hear Beca call her attention. It is only when the Du Pont places a hand on her arm that she whips her head towards Beca. Thus, the confused and puzzled look.

"Hey, sorry, I got to talk to someone. I'll be back real quick, okay?" Beca explains, giving her an apologetic look.

Nodding, Chloe immediately re-assures her that it's perfectly fine. The Du Pont lingers a little longer before lightly squeezing Chloe's arm. Like some sort of promise. And then she's gone off. With her sexy 'club buddy'. Who is holding her hand and pulling her away from Chloe.

It's irritating.

It's maddening.

It's infuriating.

It's none of her business.

Even if she wants nothing more than to stop her, pull her back and tell her to stay. To tell her to stop letting that woman run her hands around her skin. To never leave her side. Because she has no right to do so and she knows that, loud and clear.

She's just the 'childhood best friend' after all.

"One more Margarita?" Flo asks and somehow it looks like she knows. Being a bartender, she must've seen the look on Chloe's face more often than anyone else. They are most likely the first people one would look for in case of earth shattering feelings and end of the world matters.

Tapping her finger against the bar table, she remains quiet for a moment before finally, the tapping stops—and maybe she's acquired this anxious habit from Beca. She then looks up at the waiting bartender, right in the eye as she says, "Yeah, but without the lime, the triple sec and maybe even the salt as well?"

Flo smiles at her as she begins to pour her drink, "Okay," she says and Chloe is thankful that bartenders, like Flo, are good at catching on fast, being sensitive and are non-judgemental—at least the kind that doesn't show on their faces and makes you feel insecure.

In seconds, Chloe's drink is served in front of her, a glass of just pure tequila which she's quick to consume like it is water. The room instantly grows even warmer as she pushes the glass towards the bartender. "Delicious, can I have one more?"

Maybe getting drunk was really part of her 'things-to-do' tonight. She's just fortunate that she bumped into Beca who has unintentionally become her ticket to booze town.

Beca, right, Beca Mitchell, sarcastic but caring, aloof but sweet and rough around the edges but is capable of gentleness. A killer with a heart. Chloe hadn't even thought of putting those two words together in a sentence until she gotten more involved with the Du Pont. Anyone who'd probably hear her say it out loud would think that she's mental. But maybe she is because she's seriously slipping down towards that direction if this keeps up.

Speaking of slipping, she's seriously about to kiss the floor any second now with the amount of Tequila in her system. Well, better the floor than the guy who has been trying to flirt with her for the past few minutes. And honestly, even if she was sober and single, she still wouldn't. It's even annoying how persistent he is despite her countless rejections.

"Sorry, no," she says for the millionth time, waving her hand lazily at him while she downs another glass of Tequila. She's also had it in mind to break his nose if ever he touches her one more time.

Wanting to give as much distance as possible, she tries to hop on to the next seat only to miscalculate the distance of the floor from up the stool where she was sitting—and also the level of drunk she is currently in. She really is about to kiss the floor this time if it wasn't for secure arms catching her in time. Instinctively, she clings to the warm body that had broken her fall, inhaling the scent of coffee and blueberry.

"Becs Becs! You're back!" she delightedly says, swaying in Beca's arms as the Du Pont holds her steady.

"Right, sorry about that, there was this music producer who…" Beca's words trail off as she takes the state Chloe is in—smiling like an idiot with heavy lidded eyes and head nodding slowly.

"I love this song. It's groovy," she slurs as a slight frown starts to appear in Beca's face.

"Chloe," she hears Beca call out. "How much alcohol did you drink?" she asks as Chloe holds up two fingers.

"Two?" Beca prolongs the word, clearly skeptical as she tries to gauge out the exact answers by supplying suggestions, "Shots, glasses, bottles?" before murmuring, "God, please don't say bottles,"

Chloe giggles before answering, "Glasses,"

"So, just two?" Beca asks and there's that tone of scepticism again. This time, Chloe looks up, seemingly counting the number in her head.

"I think… it might be more than two," she says and Beca's eyes glance towards the side where Flo is wiping the table and also probably holding up her fingers to tell Beca the exact count number—which is definitely more than two.

"Uh huh," is all that leaves Beca's lips before looking back at her in something akin to concern. But before she could suggest taking her home, Chloe is already shaking her head.

"I'm fine! This is the best night of my life! Look, I can still say my name backwards, walk in a straight line and punch that annoying flirt who is trying to harass me," she says in the most confident tone a drunk person can muster as she jabs her thumb towards the direction of annoying flirt. She probably sounds similar to how those dumb people confidently declare that they can jump from the roof down the trampoline and into the pool without breaking their spine.

"Don't," Beca quickly dismisses before Chloe could go and prove all of it. The Du Pont's eyes flitting to the someone behind her and it suddenly reminds Chloe of the look she gives off when she's about to like, kill thirty rogue soldier vampires. But she's drunk and anything at this point is either real or a hallucination.

"Let's just go somewhere else," Beca finally says and Chloe pouts.

"Gut Chlo Chlo mont shwimmy," she whines in baby alien language, tugging at Beca's jacket. _But I want to go dance_.

"Later," Beca sighs. "We'll go swimmy later," she assures her as Beca begins to walk her, or more like guide her, towards the exit, an arm protectively wrapped around Chloe's waist. And if she gets to be this close to Beca when she's drunk then alcohol isn't so bad after all.

The Du Pont gives a grateful nod towards Flo before passing by annoying flirt. And as soon as they do, the guy suddenly gets thrown off from his seat and falls down painfully to the floor, his drink spilling all over him. Chloe doesn't know what exactly happened as everything looks like it's spinning but it definitely had to do with Beca.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," the Du Pont mutters before she 'accidentally' kicks him in his side. "Sorry, again. It's so dim in this place. Can't see," she apologizes as the guy groans in pain, clutching his ribs.

After wobbling and weaving through people, they finally make their way out and back to Beca's car. At this point, everything just seems funny and maybe even blurry to Chloe. Even the stop lights at the intersection look like colourful Christmas cookies to her and maybe that small curve Beca's lips make is an indication that she finds Chloe's drunken ramblings humorous.

"So, you're this kind of drunk, huh," she muses when Chloe goes on about the differences of the red, green and yellow cookies she'd like to eat right now.

However the amusement in Beca's eyes fades as they hear the roar of a car engine revving up again and again. It sounds taunting and as they look over at the vehicle next to them, a red sports car, two guys give them a look that is nowhere near decent.

"Look, here comes shit number 1 and shit number 2," Beca says under her breath with no enthusiasm at all. The Du Pont begins to roll up the windows until a comment makes her pause.

"Hey red, wanna' ride? I can assure you, it's far more satisfying in here,"

The windows roll back down as Beca fixes her eyes over the abominations.

"C'mon, fingers are never going to compare to what I have down here!" the guy with a cap next to the tattooed driver yells out mockingly, licking his lips before they both snicker.

"Becs," Chloe begins, her focus now more clear as she suddenly feels much sober than before. She turns to the clearly pissed off Du Pont. Hearing her voice however, Beca breaks off from throwing deadly glares at the laughing maniacs, her attention tuning back into her. They look at each other for a moment and questions are not needed. They're already in the same wavelength.

"Step on it," Chloe orders.

Beca doesn't need to be told twice, her car revving up angrily and this is probably a situation Chloe would never think she'd find herself in ever but she's too far gone to think rationally. Not when Beca looks like that, eyes dark and cold, and lips parting in intense concentration.

Chloe wonders if those very lips still taste of peppermint or do they taste like blueberries now.

The light goes green and all Chloe sees is the glow of city lights and the colour blue.

Dark stormy blue.

Adrenaline rushes into her system. The thrill of danger making her heart skip a beat before pumping fast. But she's not scared. Never near Beca. They make a drift at a curve. Beca's hair sways to the movement and Chloe thinks it's perhaps the most alluring thing she's ever seen. 'Dembow' by Danny Ocean blasts through the car's speakers and she's probably going to ask Beca to dance to it with her later.

And of course they win.

"You alright?" Beca asks her softly and Chloe smiles.

"I think I would've felt much better if you literally kicked them in the ass,"

The smile Beca makes is again, priceless.

An hour later they find themselves in a quiet spot overlooking the city, car parked just near the edge and loads of snacks scattered all around them. They've crashed, not literally, at a convenience store along the way where Chloe may have gone wild running around because of too much chocolate. She may have also introduced herself to the cashier as a clingy red panda and Beca the fuzzy otter she clings to, much to the Du Pont's annoyance.

" _Otters love holding hands. Hold my hand, Becs. I'm cold,"_

" _She's not—I'm not—I don't know her,"_

" _You're hands are so warm and squishy,"_

" _We're leaving. Now!"_

" _I know you secretly love it,"_

It's an hour after midnight. The chilly wind blows gently but Chloe doesn't feel any of it, not when she's next to the Du Pont who had just given her, her jacket. They are both now sitting on the hood of the car, shoulders brushing against each other and music still playing in the back as they look on at the amazing scenery.

The silence between them is comforting rather than awkward and Chloe finds that it's always been like that with Beca. She didn't have to play perfect or act a certain way at all. She can just be herself.

It must be so good to live like this all the time.

Being free.

A heavy feeling starts to consume her but a familiar tune plays and Chloe's eyes light up instantly.

"I know this song!" she happily says.

"I like this song," Beca says next to her and Chloe looks at her. The Du Pont turns to her as well and there's that look again, the one where she has seemed to decipher whatever Chloe is thinking. Admittedly, the mischievous look and grin are a dead giveaway though.

"You promised me we will," she reminds the Du Pont who sighs. "Just because I had tequila doesn't mean I didn't hear you say it," she adds.

Chloe stands up, turning to face the Du Pont, offering both her hands towards Beca who looks just about to protest. She doesn't though and takes both Chloe's hands instead. Chloe pulls her up to stand, taking a few feet back. Beca follows her and it's really hard to think about anything else when those stormy blues never leaves hers.

And maybe Chloe didn't think this through.

Beca takes a step closer to her, hands coming up to rest on Chloe's hips before sliding them towards the small of her back to pull her closer against her. It has Chloe unconsciously gulping as the gap is close to disappearing any moment now. Her own hands fly up over Beca's shoulder and around her neck instinctively. Resting her head lightly on the Du Pont's shoulder, they sway lightly to the beat. Their movements totally in-sync with each other as if they had been dancing together for years.

Beca smoothly takes her hand and spins her around, a smile on both their lips until Chloe's fades as she feels Beca's front flushed against her back. Arms, strong yet gentle wrap around her middle. She feels Beca's warm breath against her neck and it is such a huge contrast to that time in the old gym two years ago.

Chloe really didn't think this through.

They move and dance to the beat until they're back to where they first started. The dancing starting to dissolve into light swaying with Chloe's arms around Beca's neck, her chin now resting on Beca's shoulder and the side of her head leaning against Beca's. And this is the most intimate they've ever been in eight years. The Du Pont's hands are still resting at the small of her back and maybe Chloe doesn't want it to end just yet. So she hugs Beca tighter, mentally giving the excuse that there's still a certain amount of alcohol in her system.

So, she blames it on the alcohol.

"I like being with you," she says softly against Beca's ear.

It's a slip but it doesn't matter anyway. She's tumbling down hill with nothing to stop her.

It's too late.

She's already fallen so deep.

Into those deep dark blue eyes.

She could get lost in the galaxies hidden within them. Bringing up her hand, she gently touches Beca's cheek. Her eyes flutter down from Beca's eyes to her lips, now only inches from hers.

"I'm happy when I'm with you and… I want to be happy,"

She's tired of the pain and Chloe takes in the only cure to it.

It's blueberry and chocolate and alcohol and something addicting all perfectly mixed. Beca's lips, that's how they taste like. They taste like bliss and drugs and every delicious concoction out there. It's sinful and pleasurable.

She doesn't want to stop.

But her lungs begin to protest. She parts from her new addiction to gasp for air before drowning herself again for more. Only she doesn't get more.

The hands on her shoulders gently stop her and that's the exact moment where Chloe's world shatters and crumbles apart. The colours fading into black and white. The night growing suddenly colder than ever before.

"You're drunk. Let's get you home," Beca says softly and it's too calm in comparison to the loud erratic beating of Chloe's heart.

She could push, protest against it and correct her but she doesn't. For fear of receiving another fatal blow, she doesn't say a word. Beca had just rejected her in the gentlest way possible, sweet kind words, meaningful smile and all. Nothing can be more painful than that.

She wanted to cry but she can't. Not in front of Beca. At least, she still has hope that the friendship could be saved. But for now, she lets her heart crash down the ground. The sound deafening.

Beca takes her home and everything just feels painful. Chloe doesn't even know where to start. The Du Pont bids her good night before planting a tender kiss on her cheek and it feels like goodbye all over again.

Maybe it is. She doesn't know anymore.

The manor is unusually dim and Chloe prefers it that way. A sob breaks out of her lips and she slowly falls to her knees. Tears pouring down her cheeks as she covers her mouth with her hand to muffle the sobs.

Something brushes against her hand and it takes a minute before she notices a trail of rose petals. Wiping away her tears, she carefully stands up after a while before curiously following the trail. They lead her to the garden filled with small candles where Tom stands, a single rose and a small white box in hand.

Stunned, she didn't even take in all of the impressive romantic setting that must have took hours to set-up. She remains stunned as Tom walks over to her. Stunned as he takes her hand and utters the words that Chloe didn't think she'd hear tonight—or in a couple more years.

"I can be better. I'll do better. I want us to work," she hears him say. He wipes away her tears, probably mistaking them for tears of joy.

"I want you. I want you to be my queen, Chloe," he pours out before getting down on one knee and opening the small box in his hand.

A beautiful, very expensive, diamond ring sits perfectly in the center.

And only then does Chloe's mind catch up.

"Marry me, Chloe,"

 _And here we are again. Back to the start._

* * *

 **A/N:**

Oh dear. We've come this far indeed. Remember don't forget to RSVP at least 3 weeks before the big day or as Beca says in her perfect french pronunciation _Répondez s'il vous plaît._

 **And because we finally have a chapter released on Saturday we will celebrate with another poll!**

 **Who do you think is going to sing on the big day?**

 **a) The 1975**

 **b) Sam Smith**

 **c) Camila Cabello**

 **d) Beyonce**

 **e) Drake**

 **f) Lorde**

 **g) some K-Pop group (probably BTS)**

Key in answers in the comments below. First one to get it right will be first in line at the wedding reception's buffet.

 **Thanks for following, adding MS to your favorites and commenting or reviewing. Always remember that you is kind, you is smart and you is important. So if they don't treat you right then dump them and adopt a cat or a dog.**

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	20. When They All Should Let Us Be

**Chapter 20**

* * *

" _Thank you for coming back, Midnight,"_

The words Chloe had whispered so sincerely into her ear yesterday night, repeats like a broken record in Beca's head as she leans against a tree, arms crossed in front of her chest as she patiently waits. As a matter of fact, she has been in the same spot for at least half an hour, her presence perfectly concealed behind the trees, which Victor Barden is abundant with, waiting patiently. Unconsciously, in between wasted time, thoughts about the lovely Vanderbilt begin to consume her mind and it's nothing new. These days Beca's thoughts seemed to be only occupied with Chloe and Chloe alone. She also finds out that her resolve to push away these thoughts aren't as strong as they once were. By now, she's given up in doing so. Instead, she welcomes them, letting herself get lost in the thought of big baby blues, sunny smiles and soft touches.

If Beca had always looked down a cliff, wanting nothing more but spread her arms and _fly_ , now it has changed into looking at beautiful baby blues and wanting nothing more than to drown herself in them forever.

And it's pathetic she knows but she's also accepted that it's just beyond her control.

 _Control doesn't exist when it comes to Chloe._

The faint sound of leaves crunching as footsteps seem to come closer, straight to where Beca awaits. It breaks her thoughts as she looks up. Finally. It's about time.

Beca could hear the sudden hesitation as the footsteps start to slow down, clearly becoming more conscious of Beca's foreboding presence. At this point, she's already contemplating on revealing herself but she opts to wait a few moments more. Beca perfected good timing after all, a trait all assassins need to have.

A second later, a body passes by the small path a couple of feet from where she stands.

"How sweet," she breaks the silence with just the right amount of sarcasm.

The footsteps stop completely before they slowly turn towards her.

Scott Vanderbilt looks back at her with apprehension but that's natural and Beca's used to it. You get that from the younger Vanderbilts. To them the older Du Ponts are like monsters that human children dread about hiding in the closet or under the bed. In Scott's case, it's worse as Beca is not only a Du Pont but also happens to be Corvinn Castle's queen.

Scott doesn't say a word so she continues. In a distance, Beca could hear lighter footsteps from afar and even without any soul binding spells she could tell that her beloved younger cousin, Emily is walking the opposite direction from where they are.

"Do you usually go to secluded areas to hand candies to pretty young girls and draw flowers on their wrists?" she asks and this time her sarcasm is plain obvious even to a child.

Scott seems to be at a total loss of words but he struggles against it and Beca has to give him credit for his bravery. Most people would've been down on their knees, apologizing profusely and begging her to spare their lives.

"Emily and I are friends," he defends and the look in his eyes stirs something inside of her. It's a very familiar look. One which she wore eight years ago. "She's my best friend and will all due respect I don't think I've broken any laws, your highness,"

He swallows hard and Beca straightens herself from the lazy position she has held for the past few minutes. She steps towards him, his grip on the straps of his laptop bag tightening as she comes closer.

"No, you didn't," she says, voice lowering as she stops next to him, her eyes looking over the soccer field up ahead the clearing. "The law has got nothing to do with this. Because I'm not here as a queen. I am here as Emily's sister. She's more like a sister to me than a cousin," she says as she turns her head to look at him in the eye.

Scott looks back at her with the same intensity. There's fear in his eyes, Beca recognizes it very well but then there's something else there and she's only seen them in the battlefield. In opponents she's deemed worthy of putting up a great fight with.

"I'd never hurt Emily. You can't make me stop seeing her just because my last name is Vanderbilt," he firmly states. He releases his grip on the strap of his bag, both hands now on his sides, fists balled up.

"This thing between our families is nonsense! All the fighting and the useless competition, Emily and I don't want to be a part of it. You can go all day chewing each other's heads off but leave us out of it! We don't want any of it!" he continues, chest heaving.

"Leave you out of it?" Beca sneers. "And what do you think shall happen if ever your family finds out about this? Whose head are they going to chew off? Yours? Or Emily's?" she asks, giving him a rough push right at the chest at every question, making him stumble back a couple of steps.

"Because I'm certain that between the two of you, it's your head they are going to spare. Then what? You're just gonna' stand there at the side and watch them burn Emily alive? Are you gonna' run away with your tail behind your legs? That's probably the kind of man you are, am I right?" she provokes even further as he fumbles for balance.

"Whether you're going to admit it or not, we both know the truth. You can't protect her. Not from them. In the end, this thing between you and her it's going to fade and the last thing I want in this world is for her to get hurt. And mark my words, I will not hesitate on killing anyone who even as much tries to do so," she says before giving him one final shove at the chest, his back hitting the tree behind him. The look on his face, a mixture of shock, realization, fear and hurt, not from anything physical but something deep down within him.

"You are just like the rest of your family. All talk but when it comes down to it, you just turn your back and walk away," she sneers, adjusting her military jacket as she backs away from him.

"Stay away from her or things are going to get real ugly,"

She begins to walk out into the open when he finally speaks up.

"I can't,"

Beca pauses, a quiet sigh of relief escaping her but it vanishes as soon as she then turns back towards him. She'd hate to go _plan B_ on him.

"I love her," he breathes out, shoulders sagging as he confesses the secret of his heart.

"I love Emily," he repeats, this time louder and clearer as he looks at her, eyes bearing the sincerity of his words.

"Please don't take her away from me," he pleads softly.

"I may not know how I'm going to do it because you're right, I have nothing against them or you. I don't have the power or the influence. I'm just a guy, an elite, a Vanderbilt but still, just a guy. I don't know anything, only that… I can't lose her,"

She walks back towards him, staring at him hard. "Then don't you fucking let go. You stand your god damn ground and hold on. Don't know what to do? Well, let me tell you what to do. You stay. You stay and you fight even if you end up losing. Just stay right by her side, no matter what happens," she says, her tone softening while he looks back at her in shock before the realization dawns upon him.

She continues, "They are going to find out eventually. When that happens, their going to do everything to pull you apart. They are going to say lies and you are not going to believe any of it. There's only two ways this could go, you either continue being a Vanderbilt or be a man without regrets. If you don't think you can do it then end whatever this is and spare Emily from the much more pain,"

He slowly starts nodding but then Beca suddenly grabs on to the collar of his shirt, making him stumble forward, "But if you continue with this and still make the mistake of hurting her. You better run as fast as you can because I am going to cut whatever part of your body I get my hands on," she threatens in a tone that can kill.

"I would never. Besides," he averts his eyes downwards. "She might not even think of me more than a friend anyway," he admits and Beca lets go of him.

"Well, that's not my problem," she mutters before heading off to the open field. Although a part of her already knows that there's a very small chance of that happening. There's no way she's going to tell him that though. He's going to have to work hard for it.

"You did great on that race," he suddenly says behind her and she turns to look at him questioningly.

"Constantine Albert. The annual race relay. That was an awesome strategy. You would've won," he says and this was the last thing Beca would ever expect him to say or that he even noticed her 'awesome' game play. But when she gets past that only does his words start to make sense. Suddenly, she spots the hidden meaning behind it. The words incomplete as the rest of his sentence hangs silently in the air.

So she simply ignores him and continues on her way.

"Tom's going to ask her to marry him" he abruptly says and that makes her stop in her tracks for the third time tonight. "He's going to propose later tonight,"

Moving her head to the side without facing him, she finally gives her reply, "That's what happens if you mess things up," she smiles at that, a smile that tries to cover the sadness in her heart.

"I'm about to give you a way out of this bloodline mess, an opportunity. So you better not waste it like I did," she pauses as the years before pour out in her head. A particular memory from almost three years ago burning at the center of her chest. Her stupid seventeen year old self walking away from the other half of her soul out of pride and anger.

"Or you'll end up losing her," she finally says before walking away, this time for real, shielding the broken pieces of her heart by going as far as her legs can take her.

She only stops when she finally spots her precious car. Taking out her phone, she begins typing a message. One that contains a change of plans. Instead of actually heading to her first class—which would've been an absolute shocker—she decides to work at Club Dusk. Anything to make her stop thinking of things that would lead to her doing something irrational and then suffering the consequences later.

Consequences like seeking out that familiar heartbeat and following that familiar scent which just seems to be getting stronger by the second.

"Becs?"

It's no secret that the universe loves to torture her.

"I think you're class just started 10 minutes ago,"

And Beca is a masochist for accepting it with her arms wide open.

So, like a moth obsessed with the flame, she dances around fire no matter how painful it's getting. Or how much it's starting to kill her. Especially when it's just so easy to pretend.

That everything is real.

It's easy to be so caught up in the moment. The two of them in a world of their own just like before. It's all so easy, especially now that this would be the last time Beca could let herself _lose control._

So she doesn't bother stopping herself. She lets herself genuinely smile, her walls lowering down to let the Vanderbilt in. Her hand becomes attached to Chloe's like it was an extension of her body. In a sea of people it only gives her the excuse to bring Chloe closer to her. Never wanting to part from her. The time is ticking and she has only a few hours left. Beca doesn't want to waste any second of it. And even as she is called to DJ up on stage, she makes sure that Chloe gets to be near to her as possible, pulling her over to the front so she could keep an eye on her—also because people in clubs tend to get handsy.

So it pisses her off when she is forced to leave the Vanderbilt alone as Paige brings her over to where the overall manager of the club, Theo, who waits impatiently for her. Turns out he has this music producer friend who has been asking about some potential talent among his DJs and Beca just happens to be Theo's top suggestion. Tonight's performance was sort of her 'audition' and it is impressive enough to get her an offer that could make her famous—which is the last thing she wants to happen because of obvious reasons.

Music is her passion.

Fame is a different story.

Rejecting the offer, she quickly makes her way back to Chloe. Frustrated that it took her so long because they spent so much time going back and forth with his million reasons why she should go to L.A., she returns only to have her eyes almost turn dark red with what she sees. Some drunk bastard harassing her sunshine.

So she breaks his ribs as he writhes down the ground in pain.

But because this world is just filled with filthy bastards like him, they bump into two more of these bastards and to her absolute irritation, they all want the woman next to her. For the second time that night, Beca's dark side is again on the verge of breaking loose. It's actually amazing how well she is doing compared to four years ago when it only takes seconds for her to unleash hell on earth.

But what else is new? Beca will always be connected to danger and death.

 _Beca_ _is violence herself._

And violence is one of the biggest triggers to Chloe's nightmares. It is after all, violence that created them and that's something Beca vows to keep away from her. _Even if it requires her to leave._

Which is why when Chloe wasn't looking, she quickly breaks both their ribs—also because the bastards asked for a race re-match with Chloe as the price and that's just insulting, especially the last one.

Fortunately, they've reached the quota for encountering bastards in one night and as the evening deepens, Beca succumbs further to the cries of her heart. She'd find herself holding her love in her arms, pressed tightly against Chloe, filling up her lungs with the scent of her hair and burning her skin from the warmth of her embrace.

But it's not enough.

Beca wants more.

So she sinks even deeper, holding on as if she'd lose her any moment. Even alcohol couldn't give her this kind of high. So she puts everything into memory, keeping every single detail of tonight locked in her brain and every single feeling engraved in her heart.

And at some point, she thinks that this is it for her. How could she even possibly be with someone else? How can she ever feel this sort of feeling again with anyone else? She's got more than a hundred years to live but at this moment she thinks that there's just no one else that could replace the woman in her arms.

She will always love Chloe. Until the end.

Even death failed to separate her from Chloe.

That realization makes it even harder for her to let go. Even more so, when Chloe starts telling her how she likes being with her.

The Vanderbilt looks at her and Beca, for the first time, doesn't know what to do. Chloe touches her cheek and it sparks a flame in the center of her chest before spreading all over her body. When those baby blues gaze down on her lips, she's ready to throw everything out the window. Her mind tempting her to just make Chloe hers. It kept telling her how easy it would be to use her power and turn Chloe into a Du Pont. That she just forget the consequences and go.

"I'm happy when I'm with you and… I want to be happy," Chloe whispers and Beca's just gone.

Chloe's lips seek out hers and nothing else could taste as bittersweet as this.

It's strawberry and cookies and mint mixed together in what is now Beca's favourite poison. Beca presses further, Chloe's bottom lip in between her lips, her hands desperately holding her tight. But all good things must come to an end and Beca knows that. So she stops. She stops even as her heart shatters.

Because the truth is, Beca's love would only bring disarray. The crown, the bloodlines and the violence. There are so many vampires after her head, powerful forces she has pissed off through the years. It's a fact that she's the crowned royalty who has probably the most death threats in the history of their race.

Chloe deserves more than that.

So Beca embraces the pain as she takes Chloe back home. Sending her off into somebody else's arms but not before planting a soft kiss on her. A kiss filled with the promise that no matter where and when, Beca would always be there. That no matter what happens, she will always be watching over her and that no harm will ever come upon her as long as she lives.

And she really means it. Already planning on assigning some of her best soldiers to work, swearing oath to secrecy and are bound to follow strict orders of guarding the Vanderbilt at all times.

Years from now, Beca could easily see herself making sure that her protection extends to Chloe's future offspring. Looking after young Vanderbilts that would surely have Chloe's mesmerizing baby blue eyes from a distance, making sure that they are safe. It's how it's always been anyway. _Because when Beca promises forever, she means forever._

The door of her car closes and Beca is now left with nothing but memories. She drives back to the manor but instead of heading inside, she walks the familiar path leading to the place where she can be alone.

She always says she's used to endings by now.

She was wrong.

And as the dawn breaks, the first rays of sunshine peeking through the trees are the only witness to her tears.

* * *

"Enemy at the door!" Jesse cries out at her as Beca walks in the manor through the back of the house. The panic and aghast look in her cousin's face almost makes her laugh as he points over to the door accusingly where an awkward looking Scott Vanderbilt currently stands. Next to him, a very surprised Emily which probably meant that this visit was definitely un-announced.

Without a word, she walks over to where Stacie stands, the taller Du Pont handing her a mug of coffee like clockwork without even looking at her, eyes glued to the sight of both Emily and Scott standing by the doorway. Beca could already tell that Stacie isn't as appalled as her other cousins, a smirk painting her lips as she subtly nods agreeably.

Beca's not surprised.

"What do you want us to do about this?" Nick asks in between gritted teeth, already in aggressive mode as Nate cracks his knuckles, eyeing Scott with pure hatred.

Humming as an initial response, Beca takes a sip first before finally speaking, "Does he have a weapon with him?"

Nick frowns at the question, Nate, Jesse and Stella looking curiously at her, "I… don't think so" Nick answers.

"Has he burned anything yet?" she asks again.

"No, but—"

"Is he hurting her?" Beca asks once more, watching as Emily nervously looks back their way then at Scott, whispering words like, _'What are you doing here?'_

"Well, he might try—"

"So, it's a no," Beca quickly cuts in before taking one final sip from her mug. "I've got nothing against him then. I'm heading upstairs," she dismisses before passing by both Emily and Scott like it was any normal lazy day.

"Beca," Emily calls after her, making her stop and turn around. The younger Du Pont looks at her anxiously like she's done something really wrong, fingers fidgeting as she begins.

"I-I can explain, Scott and I, we…" she trails off, seemingly at a loss for words so Beca finally speaks.

"Why are you here again?" she asks, question directed right at Scott who quickly clears his throat.

"There's this book fair going on at the Karnstein building and I was wondering if I could take Emily there?" he slowly says.

"And do you want to go with him?" she asks, looking at her younger cousin.

"I-I… yes," Emily admits, looking like she's close to tears.

Sighing, she turns back her focus to Scott, "Well then why are you still standing there? Do I need to sign a waiver or something? Go," she waves off before continuing her ascent as she grumbles, "I hate fairs. So, cliché,"

Somewhere downstairs Jesse's horrified gasps echoes in the whole house.

"Did she just? What's happening? Oh god, it's the end of the world again!"

"Shut up!" Stacie complains followed by a resounding smack, probably one directed at the back of Jesse's head.

Rolling her eyes, Beca makes her way to her room, stripping off her military jacket, catching herself in the mirror as she passes by and frowns at her tired eyes. It's like she partied at a club for two days straight. She pauses to eye the papers on her desk, the important one's tucked neatly in a corner. They were all a part of her grand plan, the end of the Du Pont-Vanderbilt war and it does involve Scott and Emily, that is if the Vanderbilt doesn't cowardly shrivel up into a ball and change his mind.

Casting those aside for now, she's about to head to the bathroom when her door opens as Stacie enters her room. Beca gives her a murderous look which the taller brunette easily shrugs off. Lazily, her cousin drops down on her sofa, crossing her legs as she gives her a scrutinizing look.

"You didn't come home all day but you're not drunk. You look tired but you don't look like you've been through hours of pleasurable bliss," Stacie looks at her carefully. "And now Scott Vanderbilt is walking with our dear cousin to some book fair,"

Seemingly contemplating on the issue in front of her, specifically Beca's face, Stacie lets out a puff of air, "Shit, you've been crying,"

"Get out of my room," Beca mutters as she sorts through her clothes, taking out her black bomber jacket, shirt and jeans. She throws them all unto her bed before grabbing her towel.

"Is it a girl?" Stacie presses on, now standing up to corner Beca.

"It fucking is, isn't it?" Stacie exclaims as she tries to decipher her look of annoyance. "Your sudden approval of the little lovebirds going out on a 'frate' or whatever it is, is totally because of whoever this is. Now spill, are we going to finally meet the queen's lover? Because this is going to be news,"

Pushing her away, Beca lets out a sigh at the irritating grin on Stacie's face. "There's no one," she replies, hoping to shut her cousin down.

"I know what heartbreak looks like, Beca. This is it, right here," she says motioning at her face with her finger. "And don't you dare question my knowledge of love and everything connected to it. If there was a subject about it, I would have graduated with flying colours two years ago,"

Beca shakes her head, looking down.

"I'm leaving for France by the end of the school year," she quietly admits.

"So are we. Have you even asked her if she wants to come with you?" Stacie replies.

"That's not even the problem yet,"

"Would you care to tell me what it is then?" her cousin questions and even if Beca isn't looking at her she knows that Stacie is giving her that look that makes anyone confess.

"I don't know Stace, ah wait, maybe because I carry death with me," she sarcastically answers.

"Hey," Stacie says in a softer tone and Beca avoids her eyes. She was never good with these kinds of things. "You know what, I also think that you of all people deserve love, the universe exploding kind of love. And don't tell me otherwise, it's useless. Even death can't stop love,"

Beca finally looks at her cousin, a confused look etched on her features.

Stacie smiles lightly, "Has your father ever stopped loving your mother all those years without her?" she asks and Beca looks far away. Memories of soft music spilling out of his room whenever she walks by early in the morning. Music which her mother used to love, her favourite songs. She remembers the wedding ring that he never took off his finger even once and her mother's camera next to his bed.

"No he hasn't but look at what her death brought upon him. I can't become like him. I don't want to, Stace,"

"You won't," Stacie confidently assures her. "Love is constant. It doesn't exactly mean that you're going to both live happily in eternity. It just means that what you feel right here," she places a hand above Beca's heart. "Those beautiful memories and everything good that fills up right inside your heart. That's forever. Nobody can take that away from you,"

"Look at me," Stacie orders and Beca contemplates on it for a moment before doing just that. "You also have to know that not everything you touch dies, okay? Unfortunate things happened around you, not the other way around. And it doesn't mean that it's never going to end or that it's going to happen again. You deserve to be happy too and don't let all that nonsense stop you. You're a Du Pont, even death is afraid of us," Stacie continues before giving her a light tap on the shoulder and then turning away to head for the door.

"Now, if you're done sulking, let's go out and have fun, okay?" Stacie yells out as she pauses by the door. Beca gives her a nod, appreciating the fact that Stacie knows her well enough to know when to push and pull.

The door closes and Beca heads to the bathroom. Half an hour later, she's heading out again into the forest bringing her laptop and headphones. She needs to make some new beats. And for the first time, she decides that alcohol cannot help her right now. Music is a better choice. So she settles down her favourite spot and gets to work. From time to time she pauses, hanging her headphones on her neck to listen to the gentle rustling of the leaves when the wind blows. It's getting colder these past few days as the winter season fast approaches. Which is perfect for the dampened mood she'll probably be sporting for a while.

When the sky starts to lighten, she leans her head against the tree as she closes her eyes. She didn't exactly get much sleep yesterday and now her body is finally protesting to the abuse. After hours of working on mixes she breathes in deep hoping to clear her head when her eyes open abruptly at the scent that engulfs her lungs.

She straightens up, preparing herself as she slowly lifts her walls back up. It wasn't as high as before, just high enough to hide the desires she's tried to quell down for so long. She could hear the slow and careful footsteps. It's enough to take her back to the time whenever she'd be reading quietly in her corner until Chloe sneaks from behind to rest her head on Beca's shoulder, peeking on what she's reading or doing. A small smile curves at the corner of Beca's lips because honestly, that tactic really doesn't work on making her heart jump anymore. Not when she can already feel her from a far.

"Skipping classes becoming a habit of yours now?" she says without even looking as Chloe does exactly what she thought she would.

"Your making music," Chloe replies in a delighted tone.

"I am. What's your excuse?" Beca asks as she saves the last mix she had created. Fully aware that their cheeks are almost brushing.

"I think I'm acquiring a bad habit," she answers and Beca can feel something different from the Vanderbilt. There's a messy swirl of emotions floating around and Beca is starting to get worried.

"What, that you eat too much sweets? That's not new, idiot," she says as she closes her laptop. She can feel Chloe smile from behind her before standing up to walk in front of Beca and with the sun light glowing around the weeping willow, it creates a beautiful effect. Chloe's beauty is ethereal.

"I'm acquiring a lot of bad habits because of you," she simply says and Beca scoffs.

"So, it's my fault now?" Beca playfully says as she stands up, laptop securely tucked in her bag. "Well, I'm flattered to be responsible for luring the Vanderbilt princess into the dark side," she smirks but it fades as she sees the look in Chloe's eyes.

"Something wrong?" she finally says, unable to hold it in. By now, she's already planning on breaking someone's bones. Chloe just has to give a name and it's all done.

However, Chloe looked uneasy at the question, her fingers fidgeting and Beca was familiar with all the signs of her anxiousness.

"Becs, can we talk? Like really talk," Chloe blurts out, those big baby blue eyes imploring at her to say yes.

Beca's heart almost palpitates at the million ways this might go, a sinking feeling in her gut as she tries not to let it show.

"Is this about last night?" she slowly asks prepared to explain that Chloe didn't need to worry about anything. There was alcohol involved and even if Beca was completely sober she could still push that reason. Chloe reaches out for her hand and whatever Beca was about to say quickly disappears. The Vanderbilt then squeezes her hand lightly, pressing it close to her as if trying to borrow courage from holding on to her.

"Just listen to me first. That's part of it but I," Chloe stops, seemingly choosing her words carefully as she runs a hand through her hair.

"I need to tell you something," she lets out and Beca thinks that punching a wall is a billion times better than this.

 _Anything but this._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **It's too early, I know. But I'll be busy tomorrow and surely some of you guys would be worried that I might've given up on this story, which I'm so, so close to doing-Nah, just kidding. I'm not...yet. No, really, I'm not. I'm going to finish this with an ending that had already been decided since chapter 1. Thank you for the suggestions though, it's just some of them are just not going to happen. Some of them are though. Of which, I'm not telling. That'd be a bore if you already know what's going to happen next. That's no fun.**

 **I'll announce the poll winner next week by the way.**

 **Also, thank you for sticking with me until now. You've all been lovely. Some, a little irritating sometimes but still lovely because you're still reading this shit I pooped out. So, thanks.**

 **Keep reading, idiot.**


	21. We Belong To You and Me

**Chapter 21**

* * *

"Marry me,"

The question rings in Chloe's ears. It's like a million alarms all going off at the same time but when she focuses right back at the kneeling Vanderbilt heir in front of her she realizes that the incessant ringing dissolves into a deeper sound, her heart beat. She looks at the beautiful ring, diamonds sparkling as he slips it on her finger. Her mind going blank as thoughts begin to crash on top of each other in her head.

When he gets up there's a smile is on his face before he leans towards her. He moves to kiss her but Chloe turns her head the other way, unable to do it. Not when she still feels Beca's lips against hers, the after taste of cinnamon and whiskey still lingering at the tip of her tongue. She just couldn't. That's like erasing Beca from her system and she doesn't want that. She refuses to allow that to happen.

Tom frowns down at her, confused at the rejection. Chloe has never rejected a kiss from him before. She feels him look at her intently as she shakes her head.

"Tom, I'm sorry," she softly says, her voice shaking as she moves to take off the ring. But Tom stops her, clasping her hands so she would be unable to take it off.

"You must still be in shock," he says and there's a hint of uneasiness in his tone that he tries to cover up with a tight smile, his grip on Chloe's hand tightening.

She shakes her head several more times, "I can't,"

He hushes her immediately, clearly unwilling to listen to her as he puts his free arm up. "You're tired. We'll talk about the preparations tomorrow," he pushes on, ignoring her rejection. His grip on her hand getting painful as the ring digs further on her skin.

"I don't want to marry you," she cuts him off, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm sorry,"

It's too direct and Chloe knows it's also harsh but she's done lying. She's done pleasing people. She's had enough of other people trying to tell her what to do and who to be with. She has her own dreams and ambitions. Her heart has its own choice and it has chosen.

It chooses freedom.

"Enough!" Tom bursts out, making Chloe flinch at the angry tone. The fury in his eyes suddenly making her scared. She'd never seen him like this. She had seen him on edge and frustrated before but never like this.

"You _will_ marry me!" he snarls at her, fangs showing.

He yanks her hand towards him and she whimpers in pain. Her body pulled against his and it felt horrible. She wanted nothing more than to run and escape, to come home to the arms that had held her safe and warm only an hour ago. To feel happy again.

It's so ironic, she realized, that only a couple of hours ago, she felt more comfort in rumbling thunders, in between the swirl of danger and at the edge of cliffs. It was so much better than this.

Tom hushes her, as if suddenly remembering to put a veil in order to cover up his earlier outbursts. He caresses the back of her head and Chloe bites her trembling lips, scared that if she says one wrong word he'd explode again. His grip is still tight even if it has already lessened as her fingers and wrist still continue to throb from the pain.

"We'll pretend that you didn't say anything," he says in almost a whisper, his lips near her ear.

It all felt wrong, his arms around her and the close proximity they have. His attempts of assurance all falling short in her ears. He tries to kiss her again and when she turns away, he forces her to face him, one hand at the back of her head while the other tightly grips her face. He kisses her and the tears that had been threatening to fall from fear finally roll down her cheeks.

She had never felt so disgusted. That, mixed with the sinking feeling of having the sweet aftertaste of her earlier high erased by such abominable act. It was like stomping on the beautiful memory of Beca's lips against hers. Beca, the woman whom Chloe knows her body, heart and soul truly belonged to. She was Beca's and Beca's alone. She doesn't belong to anyone else, that, she is now absolutely sure of. She didn't want to become someone else's girl.

Her instincts kick in, fuelled by the fact that no one else should have such right over her so she pushes him away hard before slapping him on the face.

Only a second later does she realize her actions and the effect that would soon follow. But it was too late. Tom's face was now filled with rage and disbelief. Her fear comes ten times stronger than a minute ago and there's a split second that her brain screams at her to run. But it also only takes a second for Tom to grab her harshly by the arm and drag her with him inside the manor.

"Let go of me!" she screams at him yet her desperate cries fall in to deaf ears as he continues to roughly pull her along that her arm might as well be bruised from the tight hold. She tries to fight against him but he still remained physically stronger.

They were only a couple of steps from the grand staircase when strong arms grab hold of her from behind and with a swift move, separates her arm from Tom's grip. When she turns her head, she finds Scott moving to stand in between them. "Stop it! You're hurting her!" her cousin angrily yells at Tom.

But then the Vanderbilt heir silences him with a punch on the face, the sickening sound of fist connecting to cheek echoing across the manor's walls. Scott stumbles down to the floor and Chloe cries out his name, kneeling down to his side.

Tom takes an intimidating step towards them and Chloe is ready to punch him right back when Aubrey steps in front, blocking them from Scott. The Vanderbilt heir pauses, his breathing deep and loud.

"You stay out of this, Aubrey," he says lowly but she doesn't budge.

Aubrey shakes her head in defiance, eyes piercing right back at him. "You're going too far, Thomas, and when my cousins are involved that instantly makes me a part of this," Aubrey replies, her tone calm yet firm. Her brother, Arthur, looking back and forth between them worriedly. Like Claire, Arthur does indeed have a soft spot for his sister despite their usual sibling wars. Whatever he may say against it, Chloe believes he still cares.

Tom raises a finger up at Aubrey and Chloe is afraid that he'd hurt her as well. If Aubrey was nervous or scared, it didn't show and she'd surely stand her ground as long as she wills it. At the side, the threatening gesture makes Arthur's fists ball up and clench hard. The Posens, even before they started migrating to America to intermarry with the other Vanderbilts, do hold such high importance in the elite society. It is a fact that they hold such great influence all over Italy ever since the earliest of times and are much respected until this day. Thus, they are already genetically engineered to not back down easily or lower themselves even if faced with the highest authority.

Nobody dares point fingers up insultingly at a Posen, even if you happen to be a relative.

Tom lets out a breath of frustration and to Chloe's relief, lowers his hand down. He tears his eyes off of Aubrey and finally it drops down at her, "We will marry as soon as possible. Until then, you are not to leave this house unless I say so. You dare take a step outside these walls trust me, nothing good's ever going to come out of it!" he strictly imposes before lowering his tone even more.

"You are mine," he reminds her in a dangerous tone before storming off up the stairs.

When Chloe follows his path, her eyes catch the look of hate from Claire's face as she stands up the stairs, hands crossed in front of her chest, lips mouthing an 'I told you so' which makes Chloe believe that whatever brought about the despicable act has something to do with the photos of her with the Du Pont she longed to be with. Add in Chloe's adamant rejection, things just blew up into a much bigger mess.

Now, Chloe is a prisoner in her own home and her cousins are getting caught in between all of it. She looks down at Scott, lower lip bleeding as she begins to help him up but then Arthur steps forward and offers his hand. Scott takes it and he is up on his feet in seconds. The younger Posen then glances at his sister, Aubrey, who only now breathes out a sigh of relief, proving that she had been indeed scared of Tom's rage but stood strong to defend her cousins.

"You alright?" Arthur mumbles and this would mark the first time he openly showed his concern for his sister.

"I survived having you as a brother for years, of course I am," she replies haughtily but there's gentleness in her eyes and the small curve of Arthur's lips only meant that he understood the underlying message.

When Aubrey places her focus right back at Chloe, the older Vanderbilt quickly wraps her arms around her. She feels Scott's hand softly rubbing her back and it all finally pours back in again. She bursts into tears, knowing that she didn't have to explain anything more.

"This marriage is bullshit, I know," Aubrey softly says. "I hate this part of our family too," she admits.

The older Vanderbilt gently strokes her hair, "This isn't what love looks like. It's supposed to be beautiful, exciting and making you shout out in happiness at the top of your lungs. Love is freedom. It's a right. It's a choice. Love is…" she trails off as she releases Chloe to wipe away her tears.

"Love is constant. It's something even death can't stop and nobody should take that right away from you," Aubrey says slowly as she smiles weakly. "At least, that's what I've been told," she adds.

"Have you been hanging out with the ghost of Shakespeare?" Arthur comments.

"Oh yes I have, we do more than hang out actually. We do it real passionately with so much of my heart that none is left to protest," she counters, British accent and all, while Arthur makes a look of sheer disgust that even Chloe can't help but smile.

"Do spare me the details of your intimate activities. My ears are bleeding," he says in a regal tone, rolling his eyes as he heads up to his room.

With Arthur gone, Aubrey returns her gaze back to Chloe, "We need to do something,"

"But what?" Scott asks, exhaling heavily as he paces a bit. "He is the heir,"

"Yes he is, unless," Aubrey interjects before taking a deep breath, "Another Vanderbilt challenges his worthiness," she lets out and Chloe is already shaking her head with the idea.

"That would require a challenge in intelligence, influence and strength," Aubrey recalls and Scott stops his pacing to face her.

"So one of us has to propose the challenge," he says before quickly adding. "Well, I can do it,"

This time it's Aubrey who shakes her head. "You know little of our politics, Scotty. No offence. You'd lose the debate," she points out.

Scott sighs and nods in understanding, "Alright, well then who? Arthur?"

Aubrey quickly scoffs at the idea, "Art is the last person to want the Vanderbilt high seat. He'd make an awesome lawyer not leader," she says before deciding.

"It has to be me,"

"And you'd win in intelligence, there's no doubt that you'd crush him with that. You also have the influence. You can get a lot of votes in order for the challenge to be official," Scott supplies before hesitating a bit, "But you know how this ends. Smarts and popularity aren't enough to win this,"

"Death. I am highly aware of how it ends," Aubrey finishes for him and it seems like she has already made up her mind. "It's been centuries since a challenge for the high seat has been demanded and it's because you are required to fight it out to the death. Brutal and definitely very medieval but that's the ancient rule," she says, shrugging her shoulders and Chloe has had enough of the conversation at that point.

"Nobody is dying!" she says in finality, giving both her cousins a warning look. "Not for me and not for a stupid seat, alright? If I end up losing any of you then I'd rather get married to Tom. And besides, if anyone where to challenge his position that would also be me," she argues, looking pointedly at Aubrey.

"And again, you might have both the intelligence and influence but still, death will be waiting for one of you in the end of the line and Tom's quite a good swordsman," Scott says, his shoulders deflating at their predicament.

"Death seems better than marriage at this point actually," Chloe says, smiling lightly at the options in front of her.

"Oh god, you and her majesty are totally meant to be together," Aubrey groans as Chloe perks up her head, eyes looking at her cousin in surprise.

"Yeah, I agree, she tends to say that a lot too," Scott adds with a look of grimace and Chloe gives him the same look of surprise.

"What? How did you both—"

"It doesn't matter," Aubrey quickly cuts her while Scott eagerly agrees with her. "The thing we have to focus on is getting you out of this marriage," Aubrey emphasizes as Scott nods. They fall into silence for a moment until the youngest Vanderbilt's face suddenly lights up, a hand slowly raising up as an idea seems to start forming in his head.

"I think I have a temporary solution," he slowly says. "This way, at least you can be protected from him,"

Chloe looks at him expectantly, hope rising out of her chest for the first time that night.

* * *

Chloe anxiously wrings her hands as she walks back and forth inside Aubrey's room. The sun has just gone down yet she hasn't even had a wink of sleep. The plan has been made and despite her earlier protests about its flaws, she had been outvoted by both her cousins. As a matter of fact, she still isn't entirely sure how all of it is going to go or if it'll work but Aubrey was right, they at least had to try. Besides, if anything goes wrong, Chloe will just have to do the right thing.

Noble and very dumb, that's probably what Beca would say.

The thought makes Chloe smile lightly, a calming feeling coursing through her veins and the longing feeling in her chest grow. Even unconsciously, Beca had been sending calming warmth, chasing away her anxieties and fears.

In the middle of her thoughts, the door opens making her almost jolt in surprise. She looks up to see Aubrey striding in, looking ready for her classes today. Her usual style, never failing to be chic and classy from head to foot. Her cousin could probably go to war and still look like she'd attend some international summit. Somehow, thinking of their conversation last night it makes her imagine how perfect of a leader Aubrey would've been. If only the blonde was born earlier than Tom, how different everything would've went.

But then now is not the time for unfortunate stories.

"I told them you've lost your appetite," Aubrey says as she lifts up her hand bag, letting it hang on her arm as she stands in front of her. "Scott's about to go to his class," she reports before putting a comforting hand over Chloe's shoulder.

"Are you alright? You didn't sleep," she says, looking at her with concern.

"I'm fine, just a little nervous," she replies truthfully as the door opens again to reveal Scott. The young Vanderbilt enters, carrying a tray of food with him which is a really good excuse for him to enter the room without raising suspicion.

"We have to go," he tells Aubrey whose eyes haven't left Chloe, seemingly feeling the exact same way Chloe has been feeling at the back of her head.

Without words, Chloe stands up to hug Aubrey, "I love you guys so much. We're family, no matter what happens," she says, her voice wavering as the emotions rush out from inside her chest. Memories filling up her head, the beautiful and the sad.

"Of course," Aubrey replies and Chloe feels her struggle not to break down at that moment. "No matter what happens," the older Vanderbilt repeats after a long pause to quell down her tears.

From over Aubrey's shoulder, Chloe glances up at Scott, her cousin looking at them sadly as he quickly wipes away a tear threatening to fall with the back of his wrist. Extending her arm out towards him, Scott quickly walks over to them, hugging them both.

"I'm going to miss you guys," she sniffs, taking a deep breath before continuing, "But don't worry, we're going to see each other again, I promise," she sincerely says as she hugs them both tight.

When she releases them, Aubrey digs into her inner coat pockets to take out a USB and hand it over to her. "Arthur made that. It's just compilation of photos and videos of us, you know, whenever you feel particularly lonely and sad," Aubrey explains and Chloe is just almost at the brink of bawling her eyes out.

"Although he also said that a warm body at night would also cure some of that and that if ever you need a lawyer in about five years, you know who to call," Aubrey adds, shaking her head as she recalls her brother's words.

Clasping the USB in her hand, Chloe nods with a sad smile before looking up at her cousins.

"I'm ready,"

Her words serve as their cue to go straight to the plan as both her cousins nod and head out of the room. Left alone, Chloe could clearly hear their footsteps leaving the manor. She could also hear Tom's men, standing guard along the doors of the manor. Their presence makes the plan even trickier to do. As planned, she turns on Aubrey's laptop, choosing a song and plugging it on to the speakers as M83's 'Midnight City' plays loudly on repeat.

Now the wait begins.

So, she does everything to keep herself busy. Choosing what to wear, what to bring and what else to do. It's even funny how it all seems as if it's her last day on earth even though she does know exactly how that feels and there's an obvious difference between the two. Honestly, this feels like she's about to start a new beginning. There's the excitement and eagerness to exploring beyond what she has grown up to but on the other hand it's like her whole world is about to fall apart. She's never felt so much in just under twenty four hours that she's surprised her heart hasn't yet experienced a malfunction from all the emotions she had been running through.

In what felt like years, Scott finally returns and Chloe could hear his voice downstairs exaggeratedly mumbling about forgetting something important. But rather than head to his room, he walks straight into Aubrey's bedroom. The room in the manor with the perfect location for an escape—and Chloe wonders if Aubrey had already been doing some secret escaping when she came up with this plan. An honestly absurd thought knowing Aubrey Posen but still, a possibility none the less. Her cousin does have a secret 'pre-planned' rebellious streak deep down. It's like being a rebel but calculatedly knowing the appropriate time to become one without getting caught—and which anyone could actually find out about if you know how to decode the hidden message in Aubrey's seemingly ordinary diary. Because yes, they may be perfect in the outside but it doesn't mean that they are perfect little angels in the inside. Vanderbilt teens just need to creatively find ways to let loose.

Scott enters the door and Chloe could already feel the adrenaline start to rush in her system. He takes her bag and as quietly as possible, opens the balcony window of Aubrey's bedroom. But then to Chloe's surprise, he looks down for a moment before dropping the bag down the ground. Which would have caused a loud thudding noise and alerted the guards. Except it didn't and as Chloe looks down she is greeted with Emily's smiling face below, Chloe's duffel bag in her arms.

When she looks back at her cousin, Scott meekly smiles, "I brought the cavalry," he says.

"You know that Beca is going to kill you for bringing Em into this," she whispers in disbelief. His answer however, surprises her.

"I think she will but it would be because I lied to her about taking Emily to the book fair. Also, there's been a change of plans," he says, his words rushed and hurried as he adds in the last part.

"What?" Chloe hisses in surprise and Scott looks at her guiltily. A look that could only mean that this change had been the original plan all along.

"There's only one place you can be safe, Chlo, one where Tom could never touch you and it's definitely not outside of this university," Scott finally confesses and Chloe already has a feeling where exactly that place could be. She takes one look down at Emily who is currently being on the lookout for the roaming guards.

"The Du Ponts," Chloe mumbles and there's just a million ways this could end. There's no doubt Beca would agree to this but the effects of this act could become explosive. A Vanderbilt being kept in Du Pont territory would be scandalous indeed. Beca already has a lot of scandals tied to her name, being the most unconventional crowned royalty that she is, and Chloe just doesn't want to add any more to it.

However, Scott places both his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him, "We don't have time. You have to go, now," he ushers her towards the balcony and Chloe carefully climbs over it. She holds on to the blanket Scott hands over to her while he holds on to the other end of it. Giving her cousin a final squeeze on the hand, Scott begins to slowly lower her down the ground using the blanket. She clings to the cloth, hanging until her feet finally meet the ground.

She hasn't even fully gathered her bearings when she quickly pulls Emily down with her. The footsteps of one of the walking guards edge closer to the glass window near them. They crouch down underneath it, holding their breaths and hoping that the wind doesn't blow the cloth towards the direction of the window, until finally he passes by.

Sighing in relief, Chloe finally gives the Du Pont a hug before slowly making their way out of the Vanderbilt premises and it had to be the most anxiety inducing fifteen minutes of her life. They had to stop every now and then whenever one of the guards make their rounds around the area.

Holding Emily's hand, they finally make it out to the street where Chloe's loudly beating heart starts to calm down. And it is really supposed to be relaxing back to a normal beat when she hears the voice she least expects.

"Chloe!" Tom's voice booms from behind and it makes them both freeze in their tracks.

Instinctively, as she turns around, she pulls the Du Pont behind her protectively while Emily holds on to her arm, gulping at the sight of the Vanderbilt heir.

Behind Tom, a group of his guards slowly step towards them. They both take a couple of steps back, trying to maintain the distance.

"I think it's time to call Beca now," Emily says under her breath and just by hearing Beca's name Chloe finds strength in it. So she slowly pushes Emily away.

"Go, run. It's me they want," she urges on and she could feel Emily shake her head at the words.

"I'm not leaving you with him, Chlo!" the Du Pont argues, not budging even a bit.

"Do you really plan on shaming this family?" Tom angrily says. Behind him, Chloe could see Aubrey coming but she doesn't get close as her brother holds her back and Chloe silently thanks him because having Aubrey get even more involved in this mess would only make her feel worse.

If somebody has to be punished then let it be her and her alone.

"No, I plan on changing this family," she replies and it's fuelling Tom's rage. "I'm tired of it, all of this and for what? Reputation? A pure bloodline? Why should we keep living like robots? Why can't we be free to be who we want to be? You don't have to live like this, Tom. We don't have to live like this! This marriage would only make us both miserable. I care about you and I still do but I don't love you that way. I'm not the woman who can make you happy," she says.

"And I'm sorry. I really am. I've tried but I just can't. Because my heart… already belongs to someone else," she admits and it only deepens the frown on Tom's face. His balled up fists shaking with anger, his jaw hardening and his eyes turning red.

He loosens his necktie, craning his neck to the side as if trying to stop himself from having his anger explode.

"You leave me with no choice then,"

His men step forward and Chloe is already trying to think of ways to distract them away from Emily when they all abruptly stop, uncertain eyes wandering to the direction behind them.

"So, why aren't we initially invited to this party again?" Stacie's voice casually cuts through the tension.

"Shame, we would've brought a lot of booze. Like, c'mon! Anybody ever heard about the word 'fun'?" Jesse adds in and Chloe could already tell that he was giving out his charming boyish grin as he speaks.

"And maybe some music too. It's too boring here," Stella groans sarcastically.

The Du Ponts stand next to them and if Chloe thinks that Emily brought back up, she's surprised to know that Emily actually had nothing to do with it.

"How did you guys know we're here?" the younger Du Pont asks, relief obvious in her voice as she turns to Stacie who, for some reason avoids the question.

"Well, I've got… connections," the taller Du Pont simply replies but when her eyes stray for a second too long behind Tom, Chloe suspects that the answer to her earlier thoughts about Aubrey's possible late night escapades might just be the long legged female next to her. If her cousin had anything to do with asking help from the rest of the Du Ponts her blank expression doesn't let it show. The way she grips on her phone however, has Chloe assuming otherwise

"You Du Ponts stay out of this!" Tom growls. "This is between our family and ours alone,"

"Is it?" Stella asks mockingly, arms crossed in front of her chest as she looks at the Vanderbilt heir with annoyance. "Because this is considered a public area and whatever you're doing here is turning out to be public disturbance which also means," she emphasizes as Jesse clicks his tongue, shaking his head disapprovingly at them.

"That her highness would certainly not approve of any of this happening. The queen is actually taking a nap right now and god forbid does she wake up to find out about this because I'm pretty sure none of you are going to survive her wrath," Stella finishes and it reminds Chloe of all those equations the younger Conrad would easily explain. It's all just too simple for her.

"Okay!" Jesse concludes, smiling and clapping his hand once as he looks at the Vanderbilts. "Now that we've all got that settled. I guess it's time to leave this little meet and greet before Beca rains hell fire all over the place," he reminds them in a light tone before adding in a small voice.

"And I don't want to be anywhere near a very scary Becaw. Violence isn't really my thing," he grimaces.

Stacie gently takes Chloe by the arm, pulling her away with them to the direction of the Du Pont manor when Tom yells out again.

"You take one step further and you're no longer a part of this family!" he threatens and Chloe stops. Her eyes trail over to Aubrey, Arthur and Scott, who had finally caught up with them. Aubrey gives a small nod of understanding, willing Chloe to go where her heart wants to go, before looking down to blink away the tears threatening to spill out.

Chloe then looks back at Tom, underneath his hardened expression there's panic in his eyes and Chloe's almost certain, the he already has a feeling about what her decision might be.

"Maybe, even from the very beginning it was already so clear that… I wasn't destined to remain a Vanderbilt," she sadly says.

"Or maybe I just couldn't be what you and everyone else wanted me to be. I can't be who I'm not,"

With one last look, she finally turns around, walking away with the Du Ponts as Stacie puts an arm around her. Emily who is standing in her opposite side, squeezes her arm in silent support.

After a couple of minutes, with the Du Pont manor's roof already visible from where they were, the twins rush over to them, swords and kitchen utensils in their hands.

"Where is the insufferable bastard?!" Nick asks out loud, nostrils flaring and body ready to charge at any direction they would point to. His sword already unsheathed as he bangs it against the lid of the pot that seemed to be serving as his shield. Nate, on the other hand is swinging his spiked bat in the air, the pot itself used as a helmet over his head.

"You're late to the party," Stella mutters before walking around them and heading straight to the house. Jesse follows her but stops in front of his brothers to shake his head at them in disappointment. Stacie on the other hand, takes both of them by the arm and drags them back into the house like disobedient toddlers, spitting out a ton of French curse words at them.

"Beca's not at home. Where is she?" Chloe immediately asks Emily, already knowing that the Du Pont she has been looking for isn't in the manor. She couldn't _feel_ her presence nearby.

"I guess she went back out after Scott and I left," Emily answers, looking at Chloe curiously. And this time the Du Pont doesn't seem like she wants to hold back the question hanging at the tip of her tongue.

"How do you…" the younger Du Pont starts, careful with her words as she leads Chloe inside. "How do you always know that Beca isn't home?" she finally lets out after a moment and Chloe tries to decide if she's ready to divulge the biggest secret of her life. Having to keep things quiet about them has naturally been ingrained in her brain since she was young, thus, the uncertainty.

"I mean, we can all tell if someone's around. It's just not this specific though and Beca, she also kinda' knows… exactly where to find you," Emily continues and pauses, seemingly trying to grasp the right words to say. "It's like you two are… connected," the young brunette lets out a small laugh, probably out of absurdity.

"But that's just, you know, impossible. You two would have to be soul..." she trails off before shaking her head awkwardly. "I'm sorry, just forget it. You know me, I say stupid things all the time,"

Stopping the Du Pont as she holds on to her arm, Chloe gives her a small smile, "No, it's alright. I also think that after all that's happened, I don't think I have to keep it anymore," she takes a deep breath before finally speaking.

"Remember that childhood friend I told you about? The one I loved so much. The one I had regrets with. The one who drifted away because of my mistake," she closes her eyes, letting it all sink in before laying it all out completely.

"It was Beca,"

The eyes that meet hers when she opens her own look at her both with sadness and understanding instead of scrutiny.

"It's you," Emily's words follow and this confuses Chloe. The younger female's tone was akin to that of awe and her eyes lighting up at the truth Chloe had just admitted.

On the other hand, she tries to comprehend what exactly could it mean so she replies uncertainly, "It's me?"

"We have to find, Beca!" Emily suddenly says before calling Stacie's name at the top of her lungs only to have the twins rushing right back at them, swords and pots ready as they resume their threats against Tom. Jesse groans about another apocalypse and Stella complains about someone forgetting to restock the fridge.

However, at the same time it's just occurred to Chloe that she's just jumped into unknown waters and now the gravity of all that she had just done comes crashing in full speed right at her.

When Stacie finally comes over, Chloe's world already seems to be spinning and if she doesn't hold on to something she'd certainly fall. Fortunately, she was quick to grab Emily's hand.

When she comes back into focus, she finds herself at the Du Pont living room with Stacie kneeling down in front of her, telling her to breathe and Emily right at her side, ready to offer a glass of water as she looks at her worriedly.

If they expected tears, they surely won't get them because all that comes out of her lips is laughter. She's probably looked like she's lost her mind. She probably already has. It's been quite a ride up until now and Chloe doesn't really know where she'd end up after this. It was sad, exhilarating and scary all at the same time.

Maybe that's what suddenly being free feels like.

"So, I just got disowned," she says with a melancholic smile. "I got disowned and I'm in love with my childhood best friend,"

She clears her throat, straightening up as she decides what she has already thought over and over again ever since yesterday night, "I can't stay here,"

Stacie quickly opposes. But then Chloe holds up a hand to stop her.

"Me being here already complicates everything. Beca's reputation is on the line and believe me, I know all about reputation. It damages people and blurs lines. Add in politics and it's all messy, especially if you're the queen," she explains.

"But if I'm leaving without telling Beca what I feel for her then I might as well go back and marry Tom. I want to tell her. I have to… even if she might not feel the same way. I just need some time, if that's okay?" she says before looking up at Stacie.

The long legged Du Pont smiles. "Oh honey, you can have all the time you want. You're pretty much welcome to stay here as long as you like. You're family now," Stacie warmly says and Chloe lets her mind run with the beautiful thought of how happy it must be like if the circumstances were different.

But for now, that's just how it's going to be.

A beautiful thought.

* * *

"I need to tell you something,"

In her nineteen years of life, Chloe had lived with everything that had led up to this moment. It already feels like she had lived up to a hundred and it's crazy. She had brushed past death, spread her wings for the first time to fly up into the unknown and now she's about to finally lay her heart bare to the woman she loves.

It took her hours to get herself together and now that Beca is standing right in front of her, she suddenly feels like those hours weren't enough. Her feelings are splattering all over the place, her mind a mess and her heart racing a mile per minute. The look of concern in Beca's face is enough to let her know that the Du Pont feels the hurricane she has been trying to suppress deep down.

On her way to the Beca's favourite spot, she has already thought of turning back around and thinking twice about it almost a million times. But then the thought of all those eight years of internal suffering pushes her forward. Both of them deserved this, the truth. The conclusion they've put on hold for so long needs to be finally given.

So, Chloe swallows down the hesitation and fear.

Holding Beca's hand close to her, she struggles through, "Tom asked me to marry him the other night,"

The second she utters the words Beca's face is unreadable, however, holding the Du Pont's hand, Chloe feels a slight twitch in her fingers. It's small but it's enough to lift her hopes up.

"I said no," she continues, confidence building as she goes on. This time, her words garner a reaction out of the Du Pont. The shock in Beca's eyes was clear and Chloe steps forward, the distance between them lessening.

Seeing the confusion etching across Beca's features, Chloe takes the final step and plunges down uncharted depths, this time prepared for the consequences.

She's always believed that loving someone is such a brave thing to do, more so when you offer your heart whole without even knowing whether that someone would take it or leave it shattered down the floor.

"I can't marry someone I don't love. I can't marry him knowing that my heart belongs to someone else,"

"It always has and I was a fool for constantly trying to fight against it, out of fear, out of other people's expectations, all the stupid rules," she looks down, shaking her head.

"Then I realized that by letting that fear take over me, I was robbing myself from the happiness and freedom I desperately sought. I guess losing everything doesn't really mean the end. I guess it just means that I've finally broken the shackles that have stopped me from becoming who I want to be, from who I'm supposed to be, and now I'm just taking the first few steps in what could be the beginning of another chapter in my life. And I still have so much to learn actually," she smiles before looking into those stormy blues she loves so much.

"So, this is me, trying to tell you that, I love you," she finally confesses, her heart bleeding everything out into words.

"And you don't have to love me back, you don't have to say anything else," she adds quickly. "I just wanted you to know that,"

"But even if I wish that nothing's going to change between us as friends, I know me telling you all of this still changes something. I just hope that you'd still allow me to stay by your side in the future. And if this is all too much or I don't know, uncomfortable for you then I can wait. I will wait because no matter what happens if you need me, I'll be right here for you, always and until the end," she promises, voice pleading and wavering as she feels a new batch of tears coming. Yet, she continues to search into those eyes and finally she gets a reply.

"I can't do this,"

Beca's words weren't entirely unexpected but still it pierces her chest mercilessly. It's understandable and Chloe smiles faintly in spite of the tears. She nods, looking down, "It's okay"

"I understand," she assures and she really does mean it.

Now knowing that this moment could be the last, Chloe lifts up Beca's hand and presses it against her lips, kissing it tenderly because uttering the words 'goodbye' was too hard and too painful for her to say.

Slowly, she starts to let go, stepping back and turning away. Her fingers slipping away from Beca's but not completely as the Du Pont suddenly tightens her grip, making her stop. She turns to find those very pair of stormy blues looking right back at her. There's conflict within them. It's rare and Chloe wishes to take it all away. She never intended to place such heavy weight on Beca's shoulders or torment her with guilt but then Chloe needed to do this, for the both of them.

"I can't do it anymore," the Du Pont repeats, the struggle audible in her tone. Chloe would've continued to assure her that she had nothing to worry about if only Beca hadn't beat her to it.

"I swore to myself I would protect you and if it means keeping my distance then so be it but damn it, Beale, you're making it too hard to do," Beca lets out, the frustration palpable.

"I can't," Beca trails off, the façade she constantly wore slowly crumbling apart in front of Chloe. It's that exact look that painfully reminds her of that day she lied and broke her heart, ending their friendship. It's like they're back at that moment again but this time it's Chloe waiting on the other side, waiting for Beca to finally open the door.

"I can't—I can't help it, loving you, wanting you and needing you so badly," Beca says desperately. "And this love of mine is going to bring complications, chaos, disasters and much, much more danger so please, I beg you, save yourself because at this point, I don't think I can stop myself from making you mine and once you're mine, you'll have to kill me first before I let you go,"

Chloe nods again, retracing back her steps until she finds herself right where she stood moments ago. She takes another step closer, the space almost inexistent.

"Then let me make it easier for you," she says softly before moving forward to capture Beca's lips with hers. It was soft yet full of meaning, of silent promises and much awaited beginnings. She parts from Beca but doesn't move far away, lips only inches apart as wipes away a tear from Beca's cheek and whispers,

"Now, I'm yours,"

Her words, quiet and soft yet is strong enough to set fires a blaze and bombs exploding off as Beca surges forward, cupping her face before kissing her, deeply, desperately, passionately and possessively. The small gasp Chloe makes is quickly silenced and she loses herself in the moment, hands tightly clinging to Beca, keeping her as close as possible. None of them wanting to part, lips meeting again and again in between gasps for air. Words of love whispered back and forth. In between it all, something inside Chloe clicks, their souls connecting even tighter than before. She could feel Beca's emotions coursing through her own and becoming one.

Chloe will never understand alcohol, cigarettes and drugs.

Not when kissing Beca is this addicting.

How could anything else possibly top this kind of high?

 _And now here comes the chaos_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I'd like to dedicate this chapter for the lgbtq+ community. For those who still struggle to be accepted. For those who silently suffer and are unable to express themselves for fear of rejection, discrimination and being disowned by their own families. For those who can't be with who they love because they are told that it's wrong and sinful. I wish that, when you are ready like Chloe you may be able to spread your wings and fly towards your heart's desires. The present may look bleak but I'd like to believe that the future will be bright for you. Stay strong. You are loved. You will be loved.**

Why would I be planning a 'Toe' (Tom + Chloe) wedding? What type of out of this world crap is that? Why the hell am I writing this ' **Bechloe** ' fic for then?

If Chloe ending up with Beca isn't your cup of tea then this story isn't the story you want to read on your free time or in between your **_important_ **daily activities. If it frustrates you or stresses you out, **please** , for the love of all that is good, beautiful, shimmering, shining, splendid in this world, **unfollow** this story instead. I swear, no hard feelings on my part, absolutely **zero**. Stop **_wasting_ **your time here. I'm saying this for your own good because I care about you. Don't even type a single word, that'd also be a waste of your energy, physically and mentally. But if you still want to pursue this hate/pessimistic fest then good luck with that. **Gonna' be moderating reviews then**.

 **This fic will only be filled with hope, optimism and love.**

 **Anyways, moving on, yep you guessed it right! Guest wedding singer will be my beloved wife, Camila Cabello. First to the wedding buffet table is _Parziwolf_. Congratulations wolfy!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	22. I Believe In You

**Chapter 22**

* * *

Deep, undisturbed sleep has been the one thing Chloe had been deprived of ever since the brutal attack that happened about a month ago in Victor Barden and truthfully, being back in the university had only worsen the nightmares she keeps having every day.

Tonight however, Chloe wakes up from probably the best sleep she has ever had in a very long time. Wrapped in Beca's arms—the Du Pont having abandoned the dozens of pillows in her bed, stuffed otter and all as she chooses to hug her instead—Chloe sighs contentedly before rolling her head to the other side. Her cheek gently bumps against Beca's forehead, sweetly reminding Chloe that none of it was a dream. With her eyes still closed, she places her hand on top of Beca's arm, the one draped protectively around her waist—or possessively, rather. This gesture has actually been brought about the fact that Beca had been adamant on refusing to let her leave the Du Pont manor and no matter what Chloe had reasoned out, Beca had instantly squashed down. In the end, Beca's soft and pleading, _'Stay with me'_ had ultimately silenced her protests.

Besides, when the Queen tells you to stay, _you stay_.

Sliding her hand up Beca's arm until she rests it on the side of Beca's head, she then plants a soft kiss on the top of the Du Pont's head. The reply comes in the form of an arm tightening its hold around her waist, pulling her even closer, and an equally soft kiss on her neck.

Smiling, Chloe finally opens her eyes, her hand settling at the back of Beca's head where her thumb continuously moves back and forth, gently rubbing Beca's hair. The Du Pont softly hums in satisfaction and Chloe smiles again. She probably would have a smile plastered on her face in the next coming days, weeks or maybe forever if this keeps up.

However, her bliss plummets down as soon as her gaze focuses on the clock, Beca's black and white music clock to be exact, and in seconds Chloe is bolting up from her comfortable position while Beca slowly sits up, confusion on her face even with her eyes still half closed.

"Sunshine," the Du Pont's husky voice floats in the air and it almost has Chloe stumbling back to bed. That, and Beca's very seductive bed hair. Almost.

Pacing around, in search of her bag, she distractedly replies, "My first class is starting in half an hour! I'm going to be late! And you've already missed yours hours ago, by the way, Midnight,"

She almost doesn't hear Beca's barely audible 'oh' as Chloe groans, a hand on her forehead when she remembers leaving her stuff downstairs, at the living room. Being wrapped in her sweet, sweet bubble of bliss, time becomes non-existent and her mind stuck to the love of her life, apparently.

"Do you want me to declare today a holiday?" Beca suggests before yawning and Chloe resigns to the fact that she's completely and madly in love with the brunette.

She pauses for a moment, almost sputtering a 'yes' but shakes her head instead because then they'd have to make up a holiday out of a whim and that's just not right. No matter how tempting it is.

"No," she sighs before walking towards the bathroom, planting a kiss on the sleepy Du Pont's cheek along the way. Because that's a temptation she can't resist.

Checking herself in the mirror's reflection—because yes, vampires can in fact see their reflections—and appreciating her sleep wear, black shirt and comfortable black cotton shorts, courtesy of Beca's wardrobe, she immediately starts washing her face.

"How about an earthquake drill? We can have those for purposes of future safety and blah blah blah," Beca suggests again as she lazily leans against the doorway's frame, eyes focused solely on her.

Softly dabbing the towel, which smells of Beca's body wash, against her damp cheeks, she sighs again, "I might still make it on time, or not. I'll just run, I guess,"

"If you're going to run then I might as well continue with the mandatory earthquake drill then you won't be late," Beca mutters before noticing the look in Chloe's eyes.

A look she knows Beca can easily read as an incoming favor or request.

"What?" the Du Pont asks suspiciously.

"Can I borrow some of your clothes?" she asks smiling sheepishly before quickly adding, "Also, do you have an extra toothbrush?"

Beca walks in until she's standing next to her, a smirk on her lips as she opens one of the drawers to hand Chloe a brand new toothbrush. "You're lucky, I travel a lot," she explains in reference to her extra stuff.

"And feel free to raid my closet," Beca adds, eyes brazenly travelling down to Chloe's body. "Because I think I like seeing you in my clothes," she says in a low tone and that seductive smirk is back in her lips, making Chloe heavily contemplate on whether her classes are even important or not. Add in that arch of Beca's eyebrow and it's enough to have her blushing that it's almost embarrassing to be so affected with such a small gesture.

And she's going to be so late.

Especially when Beca's lips is attached to hers again, slow and sincere, tasting like that minty flavoured toothpaste they are currently sharing because as it turns out they can't seem to do anything as simple as brushing your teeth without needing to be showered by the other with affection so, yes, Chloe is definitely going to be very late.

They could probably go on living in their happy little bubble, arms wrapped around each other and fingers tangled in locks, if it wasn't for the incessant knocking at the door.

Their moment of bliss, broken.

Beca tries not to break the knob in her frustration as she opens the door to a sly looking Stacie, tea cup in hand as she takes a small sip before quirking her lips teasingly at Beca.

"Breakfast is ready, your highness," she says, amusement evident in her tone before adding a cheeky, "And good morning to you too, Chloe. Hope you like blueberry pancakes," because of course, Stacie knows she's inside even without looking.

Beca slams the door closed in seconds, huffing in irritation and grumbling something in French about nosey relatives while Stacie's delighted laughter rings from outside.

With her face blushing a light tint of pink, Chloe shakes her head before getting back to what could now be her new daily routine and that is choosing which of Beca's clothes she's going to wear, wearing said clothes of her choice, the usual skin care with Beca's skin care products, brushing her hair and adding the final touches that needed touching up. Not to forget, of course, the kisses they keep stealing from each other in between—even if there's just no time left.

If Chloe expected to be grilled at the dining table, she is pleasantly surprised to find that none of that would be happening. Not when she seamlessly slips in the Du Ponts as if she's been living with them for years. Her seat was still the one in between Beca and Stacie, Jesse was still the family's event organizer as he lists down the biggest parties and events they should _slide_ into, Stella still prefers her tea over coffee, Emily still makes smiley faces—or hearts, as she seems to be drawing a lot lately—on her pancakes with honey before eating it, Stacie is still in-charge of breakfast—because she says she's certainly not going to be doing any work after midnight, and the twins are still going on about that running bet that their professor is dating a werewolf.

Chloe bets it's true and is a certified a movie worthy plot.

There's debates about who'd win Casanova of the year—Stacie is certain that she could easily beat the twins—and Jesse gets bullied by his cousins about his love woes again. It's noisy, unorganized and bread gets thrown at somebody—Nate, most likely—but Chloe finds it all to be perfect.

When she glances back at Beca, the Du Pont casually sipping her black coffee, Chloe knows she's already _where_ she's supposed to be. And Beca may still look like she doesn't care but as the Du Pont finds her hand underneath the table to intertwine them with her own, Chloe knows she's already with _who_ she's supposed to be with. _Someone who truly cares about her_.

When they finally head out to their classes, except for Stella, who has the whole day free, and Jesse, who has a class in a couple more hours, Chloe finds Beca walking behind them.

Slipping away from in between Emily and Stacie, she slows down her step until she is next to Beca, glancing at the brunette with curiosity. "You don't have classes," she points out.

"No, I don't," the Du Pont answers, eyes towards her rowdy cousins up front.

"Why do you always walk a couple of steps behind them?" Chloe suddenly asks, remembering all those times when she'd see the Du Ponts passing by, a complete opposite to the Vanderbilts as Tom walks in front, leading the way.

"To make sure no one gets left behind," Beca simply says and Chloe nods in understanding, suddenly looking at Beca's way of leadership with awe and respect.

Could it be possible to fall in love with someone even more?

"Isn't it lonely, being back here?" she asks, glancing at the rest of the laughing Du Ponts, probably the latest gossip in town or a very crazy idea that belongs on 'must do before we graduate' list.

"Sometimes, yeah," Beca shrugs and Chloe's eyes return to the Du Pont. It's a small confession and Chloe smiles at the amount of trust Beca is slowly placing on her.

Holding on to Beca's hand, she looks on at the rest of the Du Ponts, a thought coming to mind, "Well, not anymore," she says as Beca suddenly looks at her. Meeting the brunette's gaze, she explains in an equally simple tone and a wide smile,

" _We're_ going to make sure no one gets left behind,"

Beca's lips curve upwards and Chloe's heart swells. It's been years ever since she's made Beca smile like that, carefree and meaningful. The sight of it now reminds her the nine year old Beca sitting underneath the tree with a smile on her lips when Chloe tells of the places they should go travelling together.

She just hopes that the beautiful start of her night doesn't get ruined with the thought of having to be under intense public scrutiny. By now, Chloe assumes that word of her plight has travelled fast and she wonders how she's going to get through the day unscathed. Hiding away certainly won't help which is why she decided on just packing enough courage to take things one step at a time, no matter how hard it will be. Besides, hiding only means admitting defeat and letting people trample all over her.

Chloe is not weak.

Not anymore.

She's in the middle of psyching herself up when she suddenly feels Beca stopping her. Looking up, she meets worried deep blues and Chloe knows that Beca's has felt her mental turmoil. But instead of dissuading Chloe to go, the Du Pont places her earphones over Chloe's ears.

"It helps tune out the noise," Beca tells her and Chloe nods gratefully, squeezing the Du Pont's hand to let her know that she'll be fine.

But then Beca doesn't stop there. The Du Pont rests her forehead against hers, a hand softly caressing Chloe's cheek and whispers, "I won't let anybody hurt you," she promises and Chloe closes her eyes, holding on to every word.

Walking with the rest of the Du Ponts, Chloe knows, feels, that everyone's eyes are following her but she focuses her eyes at the road ahead, finding comfort and strength as she unabashedly holds Beca's hand in public.

Also, _maybe_ this small display of public affection is because she does want everyone to know that Beca Mitchell is totally off the market.

With the rest of the Du Pont's heading off to their classes, Beca walks Chloe to her building and it is only then that Chloe realizes the royal security secretly guarding the perimeter. She almost forgets that she is with the head of the Du Pont high seat, leader of the royal council, commander of the royal army and Queen of the Corvinn Castle. It's too easy not to think of those things when they still get to do the most mundane of things. Beca makes everything so simple, even when it's not.

Now, Chloe had assumed that Beca was only to walk her to class but to her surprise and disbelief, the Du Pont doesn't leave. Instead, she steps in, much to the astonishment of her theatre history class, and has Chloe's professor stuttering as he formally greets Beca.

"Your highness," he stammers, voice shaking as he nervously stands in front of the Du Pont.

"It's Beca Mitchell. Call me 'Beca'," she immediately corrects while the professor apologizes profusely. Apparently, there had been a memo amongst the faculty to treat her like any of the students. Beca herself had passed this memo. The one which newbie professor Martin forgotten to recall a moment ago.

The Du Pont then sits next to her, lazily slouching back down the chair and looking at everything disinterestedly before glancing over one of the students. Beca taps one of them on the shoulder and after the usual initial shock they get whenever Beca comes near, she asks for notes about the last topic and handing them over to Chloe for her to snap a photo of. Needless to say, Chloe had been trying not to laugh out loud as Beca mumbles small commentaries about this and that. And to be honest, the class had never been so interesting until now. All her earlier worries and anxieties disappearing with Beca next to her. It was just how they planned it when they were children. Taking classes together and hanging out whenever or wherever they want. Thinking about it, they did plan on taking majors related to the arts. Beca had said she loved making music and Chloe loved performing. Same building and a lot of similar classes.

This would probably be a glimpse of what it would've been.

Chloe's night classes filled with funny sarcastic commentary, secret codes being passed every now and then, and studying together until they got bored and hungry.

It isn't too late though and they could start making up for loss time.

But of course, nothing was also too easy.

The class ends and they have free time to spend together. By now, Chloe cares less about everyone else as she excitedly goes down the steps with Beca in tow, both their hands still connected to each other because it feels wrong not to do so and Chloe is just happy that she can hold Beca whenever she likes.

"Slow down, the pizza restaurant isn't going anywhere, Chlo," Beca berates her yet her eyes look at Chloe with amusement and her lips obviously trying to hold back a smile.

"Gut Chlo Chlo bummy gobbies," she reasons out. _But I'm hungry._ And this time, the adorableness successfully hits Beca as the Du Pont's lips curve upwards. Beca gently tugs on her arm, making her turn around before pulling her close and wrapping an arm around Chloe's waist. Naturally, she circles her arms around the Du Pont.

"How are you hungry when I'm right here?" Beca says teasingly and Chloe's cheeks turn pink at the implication. It was already hard concentrating throughout the whole class when Beca keeps throwing these kinds of comments in between the lecture.

"Stop it, seriously!" she hisses, a smile breaking and eyes widening as they are still in public.

The smirk on Beca's lips however shows no signs of remorse or any hint of stopping. It seems that now Beca's goal in life is making her blush. And she's so damn good at it.

Being flustered all the time has to stop though.

"Stop it or else,"

"Or else what, Beale?" Beca challenges, eyes filled with mirth.

"Or else I'm going to stop kissing you, Mitchell," she throws back and the exaggerated expression of outrage on Beca's face is enough to make her giggle.

"You wouldn't dare," Beca says, "I mean, nobody can resist my lips. You won't even last a minute without wanting it," she confidently adds in that tone that makes Chloe's insides twist.

She's totally going to lose this battle in a minute.

But then again, Chloe is also stubborn and sometimes that stubbornness trumps desire.

So she leans closer, lips near Beca's ear as she whispers, "I think _you_ wouldn't last a minute without begging me to kiss you,"

And how much it turns her on to just thinking of having the Queen begging for her affection.

Beca's hold on her tightens, pressing Chloe's body flush against hers and Chloe believes that she would've won if it wasn't for the sudden darkness that she feels flooding down her system. What was even alarming was that Chloe knew it wasn't coming from her but from the brunette in her arms. When she looks at the Du Pont, shock grips her as those dark blues she's in love with quickly disappear and turn red, gazing dangerously at the direction behind Chloe.

It's the exact same look Beca always has when she's going in for the kill. She's witnessed it herself first hand.

Turning around, Chloe finds Tom walking towards the building, his own personal security behind him. The Vanderbilt heir pauses at the sight of them and the look he is giving is far from civil. It reminds Chloe of the night she left.

The night which she had told Beca about.

It took almost an hour of convincing the furious Du Pont that there was no need for violence. Beca had been so angry that Stacie and the rest of the Du Ponts had to step in just so they could calm her down.

So imagine Tom himself standing in front of them.

It'll certainly be a bloodbath without Chloe in between them.

The low guttural growl Beca makes has Chloe panicking because honestly, after all the hell they had been through, she hadn't seen Beca this mad before. It's much worse than Stefan and the battle at the Corvinn Castle.

Her arms immediately flying up across the Du Pont's chest to stop her from charging forward. Tom on the other hand, wasn't any better as he looks at them with displeasure. His men looking just as menacing and intimidating.

With her other hand resting behind Beca's, Chloe slowly massages the back of Beca's neck, her forehead leaning against the side of Beca's face as she whispers, "Becs, please let it go," she begs, knowing that causing trouble won't be good especially if you happen to be Queen.

More so, if it involves killing the heir to the Vanderbilt high seat. Because Chloe is more than certain that if someone is going to be bleeding down the floor, guts spilling and throat sliced open, it's not going to be her Midnight.

Just thinking of the consequences has her anxious.

"Becs," she tries again, feeling the Du Pont trying to fight against her hold and if Chloe were to let go, she'd surely be charging with full force and tackling the Vanderbilt heir down the ground.

"Midnight, I don't want to be here anymore. Please, I don't feel good," she breathes out honestly and it finally does the trick.

Beca's deep blues return as her body goes limp against Chloe's. In a moment, she feels Beca's hand take hers before leading her far away from Tom's presence. Away from the anxiety, fears and distress. The sight of him alone reminds her of the night he forced her to kiss him despite her rejections.

It was one of the visible differences both Beca and Tom have. Beca would always prioritize her comfort and safety above anything else.

 _Always_

In a couple of minutes, Chloe finds herself inside Beca's car as they head out of the university's gates. Pizza restaurant completely forgotten but that doesn't really matter. Chloe could still feel the heaviness oozing out of the Du Pont and she worries. A silent Beca isn't normal, at least not to her. Plus, the speed meter they are driving at is getting extremely fast. It has her gripping her seatbelt for dear life.

But then as they stop at a 24/7 pizza parlour three towns from Bartholomew Cross, Chloe comes to the thought that there's more than a billion reasons why she fell in love with the Du Pont next to her and this is just one of them. Beca would always put her first, no matter what she may be feeling. Now, here they are far from Victor Barden and in front of a pizza restaurant, exactly how Chloe wanted.

"Hey," Chloe softly starts, looking at Beca whose eyes are focused far away. They were seated at one of the booths near the window and had just given their order.

"Are you flying somewhere away again?" she presses on, chin resting on the Du Pont's shoulder with her arms around Beca's waist.

"You know how much I always hated it when your attention isn't on me," she whines cutely because why not? It worked before.

"And I _still_ hate it,"

Slowly she presses kisses against the skin across Beca's shoulder and up to her neck, murmuring, "Becs, give me attention. Where's my special attention?"

She trails soft kisses along Beca's jaw, up to her cheeks until she plants a lingering kiss at the corner of Beca's lips. Dark blues fall down on her and Chloe uses the opportunity to cradle Beca's face in her hands, making her look at her as she softly presses her lips against the Du Pont's.

It's getting to be an uncontrollable habit, kissing Beca, that is.

Besides, what else could be a better cure or distraction to a problem?

Beca kisses her back and Chloe knows she's successful. When their lips part, Chloe searches through the deep dark sea of blues she keeps getting drowned in.

"Talk to me," she whispers and Beca's gaze falls down, avoiding her own.

"I should've known better," the Du Pont starts to admit, a finger tapping continuously at the table.

"I shouldn't have left you with that bastard," her words fade off yet each one of them laced with guilt.

"That night, thought that you'd be safe—what the hell was I thinking? I should've just brought you home with me then and there," the Du Pont shakes her head, a sarcastic smile on her lips.

"Becs," Chloe tries but Beca cuts her off.

"He tried to force himself on you and held you against your will—and there I was thinking that you would be kept away from harm! I failed…"

Wrapping her arms tighter around the distressed brunette, Chloe turns Beca's head towards her.

"That night could go a million directions but all I know is that there's only one way it would end. You and me, right here. Together," she says with all sincerity.

"I've already made my choice. That night was the night that finally gave me the courage to go for it. And I did, no matter how scary or fucked up it was. This is my choice. You are my choice. You've always been my choice,"

The Du Pont reaches up, a fingers gently tracing the outline of Chloe's face as if carving to memory every single detail. It makes Chloe wonder how she even survived all these years being separated with the other half of her soul.

A small smile finally appears on Beca's lips.

"Eight years and you're still needy,"

* * *

Sometimes words aren't enough.

Sometimes words are not needed.

But sometimes, they also are.

Stacie suddenly looks up from her school papers as Chloe enters her room. Although, the instant she does, Chloe mentally slaps herself for being abrupt in her intrusion. Also, it's weird seeing the always carefree, fun loving brunette actually look so serious regarding education and such.

"Sorry, I should've knocked," she quickly apologizes.

The way Stacie brushes it off and straightens up immediately from her comfortable position on the sofa tells her that the long legged Du Pont could see the internal panic rising out of her.

"Did the twins get into trouble again and I need to intervene? Or did the twins get into trouble again and I need to join in the madness?" Stacie says excitedly, dropping her pen on to the table and motioning Chloe to sit next to her.

She does exactly that and shakes her head. "No, that's actually not what I'm here about. The twins are fine. Although they seem to be up to something out in the garden," she replies while Stacie gives her a look that says she's not surprised at the information at all.

However, her face drops into a serious expression as she dwells further on what Chloe could possibly be fretting over about.

"Is… this about Beca?" Stacie carefully asks and at the mention of the name, Chloe is already figuring out how to exactly voice out her _problem_.

"Did you two get into a fight? Is she being a bitch? You know, she does have _bitchy_ tendencies at times. The solution to it is simply abduct her precious daggers. Those are her children. She'll be begging forgiveness and learning her lesson in no time," Stacie tries again and Chloe quickly dismisses all the speculation. Although, that's a very interesting tip.

"No! She's perfect. She's beautiful, sweet, caring, understanding, loyal and perfect. She even cooks all these delicious dishes! She's like the best girlfriend in the world! And have I told you that she's perfect?" she blabbers on, words stumbling after another.

"I don't think you have," Stacie replies jokingly before placing a hand over Chloe's in an attempt to slow her down.

"So, what you're saying is that the problem is, you're just so overwhelmed with my dear cousin's unbelievable perfection and it's all too much for you to handle?"

"No!" Chloe whines in frustration, looking down and placing a hand over her forehead.

"Alright, alright, not that then," Stacie quickly says, trying to pacify her and when Chloe tries to explain, the brunette stops her.

"Where's Beca? 'Cause this seems to be a conversation you don't want her to hear," the long legged Du Pont says, pointing out that her room isn't exactly soundproof and anyone could easily eavesdrop in on them, even if it isn't intentional what with excellent vampire hearing.

"She has an emergency meeting with the council right now," Chloe replies and Stacie nods in understanding.

Those meetings, that mainly consists of updates and ongoing political issues, usually lasts up to about three hours, or two, depending on Beca's mood—or hunger. Sometimes, Chloe gets to sit in on one, Beca's fingers tracing circles on her palm as she focuses in on the discussion while Chloe tries not to object to some certain issues—like the law they are trying to pass. That vampires should stop turning humans they fall in love with into vampires and messing up pure bloodlines, a sensitive topic Chloe would certainly fight anyone about, especially since Beca's mother was born human.

Without Robbyn Du Pont, she wouldn't have met the most special person in her life and that law is just absurd.

So, back to that special person.

"Okay, but just to be completely sure, let's go get coffee," Stacie suggests and Chloe suddenly feels guilty that she has to put important school work on hold for her relationship issues.

However, Stacie being Stacie replies about always having time for the sake of _love_.

Hugging Beca's jacket close to her body in order to keep warm, Chloe takes a short stroll with Stacie around the West Wing's town square, passing by shops and restaurants. The winter winds are slowly starting to pay their visit and it's oddly reminding Chloe about the infamous Winter forest.

"Okay, so spill. What is bothering you sweetheart?" Stacie says as they pass by a few students grabbing coffee and talking about their thesis.

Holding her own cup of coffee, Chloe sits down the nearby bench and exhales heavily.

"Beca's been with a lot of women,"

It only takes Stacie seconds to bring down her own latte and face her, ready to list down the billion reasons why that's all a thing of the past and certainly not a problem but then Chloe raises up her hand to stop her.

"Please let me finish," Chloe says and Stacie instantly closes her mouth to wait patiently.

Giving another heavy sigh, Chloe looks down her black ripped jeans, Beca's ripped jeans to be exact, as she runs her thumbs around the rim of her coffee cup anxiously. She knew she had to spit it out soon and the thought of her dilemma is already making her blush.

"I've only been in one relationship and we all know how horribly that ended. I actually tried to date before that one relationship and that didn't end well either. I mean, I saw the guy I liked kissing the girl I like,"

"The girl you like?" Stacie asks, intrigued, as she eyes Chloe with heightened interest.

Groaning, she hesitantly admits, "It was Beca. High school party. She did it for revenge. To piss me off and punish me. I actually had mixed feelings about the whole situation. Didn't know if I was upset about her stealing him away or him getting to kiss her. I think it was more of the latter though. It was just complicated and weird,"

Stacie's laughter fills up the quiet atmosphere, joking about her very 'bisexual' problem and at one point she almost falls off the bench from too much cackling while Chloe hangs her head low, already regretting having shared that story with the Du Pont.

"It's not funny, Stace!"

Wiping the tears away from her eyes, Stacie's laughter slowly dissolves down as she looks at Chloe, "And here I thought you were living the princess life and making people kiss your feet. But damn, guess we all know now why Beca did that," Stacie winks and the thought of Beca possibly executing immature, desperate measures out of sheer jealousy makes Chloe smile.

Ah, those were the days.

Shaking her head, Chloe tries to focus back on topic.

"Anyways, I," she starts but then pauses as she runs out of words to say. This is getting really ridiculous and Chloe is close to hiding in a coffin until she's ready to face the world.

Fortunately, Stacie is an amazing listener, great at reading social cues with the patience of a mother of four.

"Chloe," the Du Pont calls while Chloe looks drearily at the brunette.

"Is this about sex?" Stacie gently pushes and Chloe groans, head dropping down low once more, a hand covering her reddening face as she slowly nods.

"Okay," Stacie slowly says as if mentally putting a check mark on her mental list, patting Chloe lightly on the head.

"So, you and Tom never…" she prolongs the word and Chloe slowly shakes her head.

"And you've never like, ever…"

She responds with a small shake of her head, already certain that she's as red as a tomato.

"So you're worried because Beca has shit ton of experience and you haven't…?"

A small embarrassed nod follows and now that it's all out she already feels like getting inside that coffin this very second.

"Aw, sweetheart," Stacie croons softly, giving her a comforting hug as she gently rubs her back. "Look at me,"

Reluctantly, Chloe finally meets the brunette's eye. There's no teasing look or anything that screams judgement. Instead, what she gets is a look of understanding and a genuine smile.

Relief floods her system knowing that she really did confide to the right person. In Aubrey's absence, it is usually Emily that has been by her side but with matters like this, she's glad Stacie is around.

The Du Pont takes her hand, intending to drive her point, "My cousin loves you, so much. I can vouch for that. I've never seen her look so happy and content, and it's mainly because of you. And if you're not ready to cross that line, Beca is going respect that. She will and if she won't I will slap, kick and punch some sense into her. But seriously, you know she would wait, no matter how long it takes,"

"I know that and believe me I do want to cross that line," Chloe immediately says before adding forlornly, "For a week now," because it has indeed been a week since she's moved in the Du Pont manor and joined their crazy crew. A week since she's fought for her heart's desires and ran to the arms of the woman she loves.

A week since she's been able to call Beca Mitchell hers.

"It's just that Beca is perfect and special, and because of that I want _it_ to be perfect and special. I want to be able to make her really, really _happy_ because she deserves it. And maybe make her very, _very_ happy that she'd also forget all those other women she had _fun_ with," she emphasizes towards Stacie, quickly mumbling the last few words. The brunette on the other hand looks like she's watching two kittens napping beside each other, a hand over her heart as she gushes.

"That, is the sweetest thing I've ever heard. So worth throwing aside school papers for," she sighs before shaking off the invisible mushy feelings and getting straight to business.

"If that's the case then you have nothing to worry about," Stacie assures her and when she tries to voice out her worries, the Du Pont quickly beats her to it, stomping any of her anxieties.

"Listen to me, nobody does something and perfects it at the first try, okay? It's not some inborn talent you've suddenly been blessed with—well maybe except for me," she quickly murmurs making Chloe laugh lightly.

"It's a skill, Chloe, and skills are learned and practiced. Now all you need to do is be honest. Talk to her. Communicate, please, it's very important in every relationship," Stacie says, looking like she's close to begging.

"No wonder that psychopath cousin of mine has been so pissy lately. She's been grumpy at the smallest stuff and suddenly exercising at weird times of the day," Stacie complains and Chloe feels another wave of guilt hit her at the realization.

She had let their slow, tender kisses evolve into hot and heavy make-out sessions. But whenever she would feel Beca try to take it a step further, she pulls away abruptly, pulling out a random excuses to do something somewhere or expertly diverting the Du Pont's attention into something mundane. But Beca being the perfect girlfriend, despite her confusion, doesn't forcibly push for more, her patience extremely commendable. Because certainly, it's not easy sharing the same bed and literally being attached to each other every single night, with someone you are highly attracted to at that, without acting upon your desires.

She had been leading Beca on for a week. Turning up the heat only to suddenly leave her hanging. Stacie was right, it would've been easier if she had been honest from the very beginning and now Beca must probably be wondering what she had been doing wrong or why Chloe suddenly keeps avoiding physical contact with her.

The thought is enough to make her sink back into a bigger puddle of guilt.

"Alright, let's not go to that dark place again," Stacie lightly warns her as the brunette starts to stand up, pulling Chloe up with her before fondly linking arms with hers.

"We're going to have to fix this little bit of mess. Now, it's best if I probably give you some important pointers and reminders before you go be _happy_ ," she slyly says and Chloe lets out another groan.

* * *

Slipping inside the room, Chloe scans the whole place to find Beca sleeping on the bed, Chloe's side of the bed to be exact. Moving around quietly, she makes her way towards the sleeping Du Pont. Crawling on the bed and lying on her side next to Beca, Chloe carefully tucks strands of dark brown hair spilling across the Du Pont's face behind her ear.

Beca is beautiful even without make-up and Chloe honestly thinks she's even prettier during unguarded moments. Whether she is concentrating on concocting something delicious in the kitchen or innocently confused about something, Chloe loves each and every moment whenever Beca is unaware. However, it's another story when Beca goes into protective and leadership mode, confidence brimming as she commands everyone's attention just by standing in a corner.

That side of the Du Pont makes Chloe _feel_ things. _Very explicit things._

Leaning over, she softly plants a kiss on Beca's cheek. The action is enough to wake the Du Pont up. With a sharp intake of breath, dark blue orbs greeting Chloe, Beca reaches out to her and instinctively Chloe instantly slides into warm arms.

They fit so perfectly together and it feels like home.

"Sorry, the meeting took too long," Beca softly mumbles, fingers running down Chloe's auburn locks. It's soothing and a sure way to make Chloe sleep.

"It's okay. I went out for coffee with Stacie," she replies, humming in satisfaction as she presses herself further against the Du Pont, clinging to Beca as if she was her lifeline.

 _She is._

"We can still watch that movie you want to watch," Beca suggests.

"I want to but you're so comfy and I'm too lazy to sit back up," she replies with a sigh of contentment, burying her face on the crook of Beca's neck.

The Du Pont chuckles lightly, fingers still playing with Chloe's hair.

"Becs?"

"Chlo,"

"High school. Junior year. Remember that party? You know, someone's birthday or something," she slowly opens up and she could almost feel the small frown forming in Beca's face.

"Which one?" comes the following question because of course, Beca had been hopping around all sorts of parties that time.

"The one where you kissed that guy I liked. The tennis player,"

The effect of her words are as expected as Beca stills before deflecting, "Why are we talking about cringey, disgusting, horrible memories again? Also, I did you a favour. He was an ass,"

Giggling, Chloe rests her chin on Beca's chest as she looks up at the Du Pont. "So, you did it to save me,"

"Yes, maybe,"

"And because you were jealous?"

"Ye—No, I wasn't!" the Du Pont adamantly denies and Chloe smirks.

"So you bullied me mainly because you wanted to get my attention. You constantly followed me around school so you could keep the assholes away from me. Aww, Becs, if you wanted Chlo Chlo kisses and special attention then you could have just said so,"

"That's not—Stop twisting things. I didn't—I wasn't—No," Beca stutters adorably and Chloe is afraid that she broke the Du Pont.

"You know what, I'm tired. I'm going to sleep," Beca grumbles, turning away from her and rolling to her side in the opposite direction.

But if she thinks that Chloe is letting go of her easily then she is wrong. Scooting over to the Du Pont, Chloe eagerly wraps her arms around Beca, hugging her tightly from behind and affectionately peppering her cheek with apologetic kisses.

"I love you,"

"We are still not adopting that evil kitten,"

"Yes we will and it's not evil! But I'm serious. Thanks for keeping the assholes away. I really love you,"

"Love you too, idiot,"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **This Bechloe love fest is giving me allergies. The good kind.**

 **Important reminder:** **Please be kind to the bisexuals. I heard some people, especially from the LGBTQ+ community have this misconception about them and judge them immediately because they are "notorious for cheating and leaving their partners for someone else because of their attraction to both men and women". Now well if that's the basis for cheating then what about us pansexuals then? Do we get to be the number one cheaters of the whole universe then? Does that mean straight people are less likely to cheat?**

 **Wtf?**

 **But people, seriously, if someone cheats on you, it's not their sexual orientation that is the problem. IT IS THE PERSON THEMSELVES. Let's not be bullies and discriminate, okay. Let's not be Tom and Claire. Let's all be Becs Becs and her Chlo Chlo.**

Also, didn't get to update early as some people decided to drag my lazy ass to the mountains because it's fun they said. I needed fresh air they said. There's no internet connection but you're going to love it, they said.

And fuck, they were right. I loved it.

So yeah, sorry for the late update. Hope you didn't panic and call the police or something. Still alive, apparently. I survived.

Sa0621: Of course, sweetheart. The wedding cake better be chocolate. Thanks for the trust, loyalty and attention. Appreciate it, really.

I love you all, you precious babes. You're all so sweet. Do continue the sweetness. We need to fill this messed up world with love.

 **Virtual hugs to all.**

 **Thanks for reading, commenting, following and adding Midnight Sunshine to your favorites!**


	23. You Know The Door to My Very Soul

**Chapter 23**

* * *

The last formal event Chloe had attended was Victor Barden's memorial ceremony. That was almost two weeks ago yet it felt like it had been more than that. It felt like years.

She went as a Vanderbilt then. Officially.

Two weeks later and here comes another formal event, a bigger one actually. Other important figures from all over the world will be attending to celebrate a very important moment in history, the day the royal council had been created.

However, this time she'll be attending as Chloe Beale.

Only as Chloe Beale.

They say your life can just change in a moment. Chloe guesses this is what they meant. It feels weird. Strange. Ironic. But does she regret anything? No. Not all.

Is she nervous about it though?

Very.

So here she is checking herself in the mirror for what feels like the millionth time. Her hair gathered up into plaits that seemed like a crown on top of her head. Like royalty. Which was really a bold move to do, especially when there's only one person who is supposed to be wearing a crown tonight. To be fair, it wasn't her idea. _The Queen_ herself must have ordered it since her hairstylist, Dylan, just went to work after telling her to 'Don't worry, I'll make you look like a goddess tonight' and a 'trust me' wink along with it.

Even her dress was already prepared beforehand. Chloe was in awe the first time she saw it. And to think that they even politely told her that if she didn't like the design they could always replace it with whatever she wanted. The beautiful gold coloured evening gown bathed in small diamonds and pearls was most definitely a dress every girl dreams of wearing. So the implication that she'd think it was rubbish was absurd because Chloe was already in love with it from the moment they brought it in.

Chloe is no stranger to formal extravagant fashion. She grew up with it. But tonight would certainly take the number one spot for making her feel really special. Which was ironic since she currently doesn't hold any title nor officially belong to any elite family, despite being born into one. Yet here she was invited to one of the biggest royal events, dressed in a very gorgeous dress and glittering shoes—she doesn't even know where to begin with her elegant high heels.

Maybe she should sweetly warn Beca next time to tone it all down a notch.

Turns out, the Du Pont has a knack for giving Chloe more than the proper amount or quality of almost everything. The other day Beca bought boxes of chocolate chip cookies especially delivered from Sweden after Chloe made a small comment about the delicious looking dessert she saw on TV. Or that time when she jokingly said that it'd be nice to ride a cable car from the manor to the arts building. She had to stop Beca from actually having one made. And don't get her started with all that delicious dishes she'd been making for her almost every day just because she requested it one time.

* * *

" _Put that down, Jesse. Now,"_

" _C'mon Beca, just one bite!"_

" _Make your own. This is for Chloe,"_

" _Hey Chloe, can I have some?"_

" _Sure, Jess,"_

" _Chloe, no,"_

" _Chloe, yes,"_

" _Jesse, yes!"_

" _Shut up, Swanson!"_

* * *

Honestly, asking Beca to turn it down a notch is going to be quite hard and Chloe smiles at the thought of the stubborn Du Pont. Beca who still gets awkward whenever she'd sincerely throw her compliments—or giving her a bouquet of roses just because. Sometimes it makes Chloe sad that Beca rarely gets told about how amazing she was. Back when they were children, Beca used to furiously blush when Chloe started showering her with sweet affectionate words and gestures. Now, it's subtle awkward fumbling and heavily deflecting through sarcastic comments or jokes.

It makes her think just how hard life was for the Du Pont to be able to take on harsh words without even a flinch but stutters when it comes to being told of how beautiful she is.

To Chloe, personally, it's when she is making music that Beca is most beautiful. When she is wrapped up in the melody and the beat, all of it consuming her. When she closes her eyes as she feels for it and when she opens them to look at Chloe and Chloe alone. It's that moment when everything else around them becomes silent, the noise dies down and another kind of music plays.

A breath.

A pulse.

A heartbeat.

All becoming one.

Beca's alcohol consumption greatly lessens despite being at the club almost every night. How could it not? Her lips are always occupied with Chloe's to even take a sip—because kissing is the only way to make flirty people back off forever. They'd stumble out of the club laughing in each other's arms and feeling high. No drugs. No alcohol.

Just high on each other.

Chloe's also enjoying illegal car racing. Not only because it's an adrenaline rush kind of fun and Beca becomes ten times more attractive when she's driving but also because they always win and gain prizes—there was concert tickets, the loser's sports car, and anything they'd want to bet on. It's bad and she shouldn't be enjoying it so much but staring at danger in the eye is just too tempting to resist. Especially when they are the colour of the deep blue sea and look back at her intensely as if she was the only living thing in this world. It catches her breath every single time.

Just like now.

Chloe's earlier worries quickly dissolve into dust as she stares at Beca through the mirror. The Du Pont stood behind her donned in a lovely black evening gown embroidered with gold fabric and encrusted with gold stones hugging all her curves. It's a dress fit for a queen. It's enough to make her jaw slacken in awe before slowly standing up to face Beca who also looks back at her appreciatively.

The Du Pont's absence in the past couple of hours had Chloe's mood dampening. Beca had quickly been ushered away from the moment they woke up due to certain important matters and so she can be heavily prepared for tonight. But then looking at the perfection in front of her now makes her think that the agony of being separated was all worth it.

What even made this look exceptional was the object resting on top Beca's head. The royal crown, custom made to the preference of the enthroned royalty, laid perfectly in all it's glory. This time it's more simpler in particular to the design yet still very much filled with elegance. Its presence suddenly makes Chloe conscious, reminding her of important royal protocols. So she moves down to kneel but Beca quickly stops her, a hand holding on to Chloe's arm.

"Don't," Beca tells her. "It's still me and no one's watching. Never kneel if it's just the two of us," she reminds with a small smile before looking down at Chloe's dress.

"Besides, I don't want you to ruin such a lovely dress," she admires unabashedly. "It suits you just like I pictured it to be, maybe even more,"

"Well, _you_ look lovely," Chloe replies, fingers slowly trailing down on the golden patterns of Beca's dress.

"I thought I wasn't going to see you until the party started," she admits.

"Is that why I can feel your distress flooding all over the place?" Beca asks as she gently slides her hand from Chloe's arm to her wrist were it stays there. The soft pads of her fingers right at her pulse point. A small gesture of comfort and security.

She lets out a sigh, biting her lower lip before looking back at the Du Pont. "Some of my family are going to be here. My parents actually go to these events all the time," she finally says as she lowers her gaze from Beca's dark blues.

"They weren't exactly happy about my… choice, obviously. And now, seeing them again, it's going to be quite… hard. It's so different now," she continues slowly before mentally brushing the heaviness off.

"But tonight's not about me though. I'll be fine, Becs, really. Just concentrate on being the baddest, most awesome Queen out there," she assures the Du Pont with a smile, placing her hand on Beca's cheek.

Yet despite the assurance, Beca happens to be very particular about the things Chloe is uncertain of and isn't one to just put all that aside in favor of all these, as she says, 'useless crap'.

"I wouldn't mind it if you don't feel like attending this event. I don't want to force you into something you aren't ready to face. The main reason I brought you here is to enjoy and relax," Beca softly says before placing a hand above hers and tenderly planting a kiss on her inner wrist.

"And waste this gorgeous dress and shoes you picked for me?" Chloe asks in a ridiculous tone. "Hell no,"

"I'll be there, Becs. For you. Besides, I'll have to face my parents again eventually. It's inevitable. I can handle it and if it gets too much then I can always head back up here where I'll be waiting for you with this beautiful view," she says as she glances at the very impressive view of the ocean. When they arrived in Greece, the view of their room was one of the things that Chloe considers breathtaking.

Paris might be called the most romantic place in the world but Mykonos seems to be challenging this fact.

"Alright then," Beca says and when Chloe brings her gaze back to her, she notices the Du Pont holding a classy looking rectangular black box, the one she's been holding ever since she stepped into the room.

Beca opens the box in front of her and Chloe gasps at the very extravagant necklace she's ever seen. Her surprise hadn't only been because of its beauty but because she's seen this particular necklace before. It had been much talked about when Beca's mother wore it on her first prestigious occasion after she officially became a Du Pont. It was a family heirloom and had only been worn by female Du Ponts who had been either crowned or married to royalty or the head of the Du Pont high seat. It was even said that the Byzantine styled necklace consists of 118 pearls and 2000 diamonds of different sizes sitting on gold embellishes. It had been the labelled one of the most envied necklaces in history and had only been worn once by Beca's great grandmother who passed it down to her daughter, Beca's grandmother and then finally Robbyn, Beca's mother. A total of three times.

Four now, actually, as Beca carefully takes it out the box and slips it around Chloe's neck from behind. When Chloe looks at the mirror, the necklace shining and glimmering whenever the light touches it, she remains utterly speechless.

"Becs, it's very, very beautiful but I can't wear this," she finally blurts out in almost a whisper. "I can't possibly deserve to wear something so important. It's your mother's. It's too special,"

"Exactly. It is special," Beca answers, fingers gently brushing against the precious object hanging around Chloe's neck creating goose bumps all over her skin.

"Only someone so important to me deserves to wear it. It is where it's supposed to be," she adds softly, lips brushing lightly against the shell of Chloe's ear while her heart hammers at Beca's words and the implication of what such grand gesture could possibly mean.

"You will be the center of attention in the room. I want you to walk in there and dazzle so brightly than anyone else that no one would even dare look down upon you. I want everyone to gush at how beautiful you are that by the end of the night the only thing they'd remember is you walking down the stairs by my side,"

 _By my side_

If she fully understood what Beca is saying then could it be that she wanted Chloe to walk right next to her, in front of everyone? Only the thought of it is making her dizzy. It's overwhelming and she didn't even expect to enter that way.

It's not traditional.

Nobody just simply gets to walk next to royalty in such events.

She's seen Beca's father attend grand occasions like this. When Robbyn Du Pont was alive, the family would always be formally introduced and given the highest form of respect, as with anyone who is crowned. After her death, Beca's presence had slowly decreased until she completely ceased to attend such important occasions following their heartbreaking separation. It wasn't until she returned to America that the reluctant Du Pont heir finally starts to make an appearance. If she was forced to, she'd be walking right behind her father looking like she'd want to be anywhere but there. Chloe's eyes would follow her, wondering how lonely it must be.

To stand in the spotlight alone.

And now she wants Chloe next to her.

Out of everyone, Beca wants her.

Only her.

She's placing such huge trust on her like never before, confident that there'd be no one else more worthy. Even willing to break a few rules because Chloe is important to her, willing to show the world that Chloe deserved the best. To be talked about not as the Vanderbilt who got disowned but the lovely girl who was special enough to walk next to the Queen.

"You want me to walk next to you?" she slowly asks, still in disbelief with what she heard.

"Yes, I want them to know," Beca starts, pausing for a second as she seems to be in some mental debate before finally taking the plunge, "How much you mean to me" she admits softly, eyes suddenly finding the vanity mirror interesting because of course Beca with her weakness for anything related to talking about cheesy things or simply, feelings.

And here Chloe thought she'd be hanging out all night at the back of the room, trying to make herself invisible.

The look the Du Pont finally gives her makes her melt but then it's really not that simple. "Becs, they're going to say things," she carefully reminds her.

"Then let them. I don't care. Vanderbilt or not, I don't care," Beca says, stepping closer to her.

Meeting her halfway, she leans her forehead against Beca's. Just basking in her presence. Softly. Quietly. Lovingly. It's moments like this when Chloe finds that they don't need words. They've always connected more than just the physical. A part of their souls already intertwined with each other.

Always together.

This was her choice.

Beca is her choice.

And every day Beca does everything to prove to her that she made the right choice. Even if she didn't have to.

"Your Majesty,"

Their moment cuts short as the event's organizers remind Beca of the time all the while looking at them both apologetically. Reminders were given here and there, a brief introduction of the important guests and security protocols are followed. Beca's hand wrapped around hers all through everything.

In between it all, at the back of her mind, a small thought slowly grows with each time she shares with Beca.

 _This would be your future. By her side._

And it's getting hard to ignore when Chloe begins to unconsciously think about it. The future.

The thought of it is feels huge and heavy. The responsibility attached to it, massive. She had been prepared for something similar all these years, with Tom. It's no secret that the Vanderbilts had plans in regards to the throne. Out of the five elite families they had the most number of crowned royalties. So these big plans are essential on securing another Vanderbilt royalty. Something that Chloe would've had a very huge role in if she remained with Tom. But then again a bloodline's high seat is clearly different from the royal throne. After Darius Du Pont steps down as king, had he been still alive, the other elite families would have the chance to send in their candidates to undergo intense deliberation within the council until they would have been left with two. From then on, the public decides who gets to be crowned. Still, it would have taken years until it happens.

And maybe it's still too early to think of things.

Maybe Chloe finally, truly realizes that she is in a relationship with the Queen.

And it could be scary to look at it as a whole and start asking about questions regarding the future. Yet thoughts about it cannot be helped.

Because as of this moment Chloe doesn't see a future without Beca in it.

And that's probably why it's such a big deal.

Chloe walking by Beca's side tonight at such an important occasion is like announcing a marriage. This was why they've prohibited royalties from walking along with their dates, no matter how much they would love to. It was supposedly made to eliminate rumours and scandals with regards to the crowned royalty's private life. As it is such sacred act to even stand by the crowned royalty's presence. A rule which Beca is clearly ignoring.

It would solidify the fact that she would officially belong to Beca.

That she would be a Du Pont.

"Sunshine," Beca's voice tears her away from her thoughts as she swiftly turns her head towards the brunette.

"Just a little nervous," she replies, seeing the worried look on Beca's face.

"Having second thoughts?"

"Nope, never," she honestly assures her.

"Good. Because I don't think I could possibly let you walk out there on your own looking as gorgeous as that," Beca admits, a smirk playing on her lips and it fortunately eases the tension.

"I knew it," she jokes with sigh, a smile growing on her lips until it fades as she looks into Beca's eyes.

"I'm right here," Beca whispers sincerely, her thumb creating small circles against her palm to soothe her nerves.

"I know. There's nowhere else I'd rather be,"

 _By your side_

The doors slowly start to open and yet Chloe's gaze never wavers from those deep dark blues that hold her universe. Music starts to drift from inside the hall and the bright lights slowly bathe them both. She is momentarily blinded by the spotlight until her eyes adjust to it, Beca's face the only thing she sees. The chattering noise from inside dies down and the music stops. But none of that matters. It's just like every night in the club. There's only one melody she could hear.

A breath.

A pulse.

A heartbeat.

All becoming one.

"Her Majesty, the Queen, Rebecca Olivia Mitchell-Du Pont" the host gloriously introduced elaborately followed by the numerous titles Beca has attached to her name. But then it doesn't end there. At least, not how it usually ends. Because as of tonight, a new attachment has been added.

"And Her Majesty's most beloved, Chloe Sofia Beale,"

Beca releases her hold on Chloe's hand to move it up on her arm before securely placing a hand on top of Chloe's. Hearing the title, a genuine smile splits in Chloe's lips as they both finally look forward. Of course, Beca would tell them to say that. She could already picture the Du Pont scribbling possible titles for hours and then scratching it off in frustration before writing down a new one.

* * *

" _How about just something simple but you know has impact like, 'my love' or 'my beloved' and it's also like some sort of announcement that she's your girl. They can all die in envy or something along those lines,"_

" _Jesse!"_

" _What? I was just trying to he—"_

" _That's a good suggestion,"_

" _Really?"_

" _Sometimes you're annoying but sometimes you're... okay,"_

" _Thanks Becs Becs,"_

" _Don't call me that,"_

" _Why? Chloe calls you that all the time!"_

" _Shut up, Jesse!"_

* * *

And maybe that's the only title Chloe wants.

It's the best she's ever heard and she will carry it proudly, that's for sure.

Two weeks being the center of attention and gossip had prepared Chloe for this night because she finds that being in the middle of it all, surrounded by very important figures in their society doesn't actually intimidate her as much as she thought it would.

She walks with Beca down the staircase and everyone starts to bow down in respect.

"Her Majesty's most beloved, huh?"

"I was only sticking to the facts,"

"True. I like it,"

Beca doesn't conceal the proud look on her face and before Chloe knows it, the moment is over. It's funny how now that's she is seated next to Beca only does the overwhelming and astonished feelings start to fill her up again. Yet when Beca's hand finds hers once more, her heart starts to beat in a calmer rhythm.

The program starts with introductions, a short film presentation of the council's history, important people Chloe had studied about since they were in grade school, impressive presentations from classical opera to spell-binding orchestra numbers and important speeches. Beca gives one as well and unlike her very personal speech weeks ago, this time the delivery is done in a much formal manner, sticking to the script. Although, there were moments when she did go off-script and Chloe smiles because even in such formal occasion Beca is living up to her rebellious reputation.

The evening was going really well.

The food was good.

The music was pleasant.

Beca hates waltz.

At least that's what she says as they face each other in the center of the dance floor. Chloe, on the other hand, has been praised for her gracefulness so many times. Dancing was one of her passions, second only to singing, which is the reason she took up a major in theatre. It gave her the opportunity to do both. So her delight on doing what she enjoyed the most is plain obvious.

But if she expects Beca to be sloppy on her feet, she was surprised to find that somehow even in dancing, their compatibility is extremely high. It is based on experience that she knows that two people can be so good in dancing individually but when placed together can produce a mediocre performance. Chloe has always said that it's all about chemistry, dancing, singing, acting, all of it depending heavily on chemistry and trust. Maybe it's the connection they have.

Because no, they've never danced together before.

This is their first time.

But Beca would always catch her in perfect timing, matching her steps. Every twist and turn in coordination with the other. The contrast to their movements were present yet they blended together beautifully. Where Beca was sharp and precise, Chloe would balance it out with her gentleness and grace.

And as like any form of art, expressions, desires and emotions bleed out of it. As Chloe finds herself pressed against Beca, bodies melding against each other and hips swaying, she's suddenly struck by particular feeling. They fall into a slow motion and when Chloe looks into Beca's eyes, the spotlights suddenly feel hot against her skin and Beca's fingers running along her spine isn't helping. It's sensual and intimate, and Chloe doesn't even know how it turned out this way, Beca's eyes going a shade darker and Chloe knows she felt it too. And she should really stop herself right now because everyone's eyes are literally on them.

It feels really inappropriate.

 _And hot. So, so hot._

Thankfully, Beca was immediately pre-occupied with people who keep trying to talk to her. But despite her attention being focused on each important guest, Beca's hand remains its tight hold on her. Forbidding her from leaving her side as she slips it around her waist to pull her even closer. Most of the time, Beca would inject things in the discussion that Chloe could easily relate to, keeping her in the loop and not out of place. Chloe appreciates just how sensitive Beca could be sometimes and it's getting harder not to kiss her in public. Because if there's one thing she badly wants to do, that is to taste those luscious lips. Lips which she had been deprived of due to the preparations for this grand occasion.

Being attached to Beca all night, the only time Chloe was ever alone was when she went to take a quick trip to the ladies room.

A decision she really regrets. Next time, she's absolutely certain that going anywhere without Beca is a bad idea.

Especially when enemies lurk around in the shadows.

Walking out with thoughts of the Du Pont on her mind, her smile fades quickly at the sight of Tom leaning against the short hallway, a drink on one hand. He's had one too many to drink, Chloe can easily tell. His movements are lazy and relaxed, too relaxed. The sight of him already has her mood crashing down.

She continues on, hoping to just wordlessly pass him by as if they were strangers. That's what they are now anyway. That's what he had made Chloe to be. A stranger to her whole family. Unable to even talk to her parents or come close to her cousins. Stripped of her own entitlement as a Vanderbilt and being disowned from the elite household is like being exiled from society. Without the Du Ponts taking her in, Chloe would have been an outcast. Alone and heavily discriminated just because she doesn't want to become his.

"I see you've now latched yourself to the Queen," Tom slurs and it makes Chloe stop in her tracks, turning slowly to look at him. Obviously, he had indeed followed her, making his move when the opportunity came.

"What the hell do you want, Thomas?" she coldly asks and maybe she had gotten that from Beca. They've been inseparable for weeks that naturally they seem to be adapting to each other's personalities and quirks—The Du Pont is starting to like those lush bubble bath bars Chloe is addicted to and has been fascinated with theatre plays these past few days. Also Beca's been smiling a lot, a contrast to her very serious and broody image.

"You must be doing a good job in pleasing her that she'd let you walk right next to her. So now what? Did you let her fuck you? Is that it?" he brashly spits out and it has Chloe clenching her fists in anger.

He staggers towards her and Chloe takes a step back.

"So you're like her play thing now? Her personal entertainment. Her little doll. Doing whatever she pleases with you. Dressing you up in such fancy clothes," he motions over at her dress with a dry chuckle.

He keeps going forward until Chloe's back hits the wall and suddenly she feels trapped. It's like being taken back to all those years where she couldn't do anything but follow orders. Afraid of the consequences if she speaks her mind and oppose. Like a prisoner, trapped in a cell for life.

It's suffocating.

"But that's the thing about toys, you get bored with them at some point and _Her Majesty_ is a woman who easily gets bored. You should know, how many women has she played with? How many whore houses has she been in? Heard she's even got a VIP card for being such a loyal customer," he shakes his head, clicking his tongue as he looms above her.

And that was really the last straw.

He can say anything he want about her but the moment he drags Beca's name into it, she's gone. Her instincts kick in and she shoves him hard, putting distance between them.

"Congratulations, you've really reached a new level of low. For someone who sits on the Vanderbilt high seat, you're rather disappointing. Before you go pointing out people's flaws maybe you should go check the mirror first, you just might be surprised of what you'll see," she throws right back, ready to walk away but of course, he's not done yet.

"You really think that Her Majesty is all that, what do they call her now? A hero? A revolutionist?" he laughs mockingly before grabbing her by the arm and harshly pulling her back to face him.

"How naïve of you to think that. You don't know anything about her, all the gruesome things she has done. Has _your beloved_ even told you about Kosovo?" he asks and this time despite her irritation Chloe is suddenly blindsided, confused at what he could possibly be yapping about.

She struggles to break from his tight hold and the memories of his sudden outrage weeks ago has her gripping with fear and anxiety at what he might do this time.

"Oh yes, she kills to protect us all whatever. But do you think every blood that has spilled by her hands is a threat? How about those innocent human lives she's murdered for her own personal gain? For her own _entertainment_. Why do you think she was sent back to America three years ago when she was such a huge asset to Underworld? Hm? She didn't tell you? You, her _most beloved,_ " there's a mocking glint on his eyes and Chloe hates it, wishing to kick it off his face.

"32 innocent human lives. 32 teenage girls and boys. Kids. All dead. All from her hands. Of course they couldn't put her in jail. Daddy was king so she got dumped in another continent instead of being harshly punished for murdering innocent lives in her psychotic rampage and you call her a hero?" he sneers, yanking her forward and closer to him as she almost stumbles before forcing her against the wall.

The information was too much to process. All that's in her head are the words, 'Beca would never do such thing'. Beca would never harm innocent lives. There could be a reason. Or it was a lie. It had to be a lie. Beca whose soft gentle hands hold her to sleep, running her fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp so soothingly. Those gentle hands that create art through music. Those cold hands that turn warm in Chloe's own and lightly caress her face so lovingly.

Beca had been nothing but gentle.

"You've been sleeping with a ruthless killer all this time, Chloe," he taunts her as he leans closer. She quickly moves her head away.

And her Midnight would never do this to her.

"You really think that she'd share the throne with you? Let you bear her children? A vampire disowned by her bloodline? Would the council allow that? But if you bow down to me, I can give you one more chance. Come back to me and I'll forget this little act of disobedience. Then you can finally come back home and when I wear the crown rest assured, you'll still be Queen," he hisses, giving her a sloppy kiss on her neck. It's makes her want to vomit.

She shakes her head, eyes filled with anger as she looks up at him defiantly, her whole body trembling with the need to burst in rage.

Enough is enough.

She's done. She's been pushed to a corner for years, without a voice of her own, manipulated and threatened. Reduced to second best despite her huge potential to become something more. Reduced to serving someone she doesn't truly love. Reduced to just being the girl who would look pretty for display, a certified enhancement to someone's reputation.

Beca never made her feel any of that.

Beca, who like a peaceful beautiful night, would always make her feel safe, respected and loved. She would never say or do any of this to make her feel less and unworthy. The beautiful brunette who would tell her how special and important she is. Who would always take Chloe's political opinions and suggestions into consideration. Beca who even in her very busy schedule would personally deliver her snacks during her theatre play practices and wait for her until it ends, until they could finally walk back home together, hand in hand.

 _Home_

The thought urges her to go forward. To fight back and defend her home. _Her real home._

"Did you really think that I'd still want to come back to you?" she asks in a mixture of disbelief, anger and displeasure in her tone.

"No matter what you say about her. Still, I'd choose her over you," she finally says, her voice low and shaky but firm.

"I'd rather be her _toy_ for her own _entertainment_ than go back to you. I'd rather sleep in her bed, letting her do whatever she pleases with me than let you lay even a finger on the tip of my hair," she takes a step forward as he clenches his jaw in rage.

"You don't know Beca and you clearly don't know me. You disgust me so stay away from me and my Queen," she says through gritted teeth before swinging her knee with so much force right up at that area that would make any man double over in so much pain when hit.

Just like the poor Vanderbilt heir who is now groaning in unimaginable pain down the floor as he holds his crotch.

Guess someone should have told him that provoking the girlfriend of the one of the most skilled assassins in the face of the planet would be the worst idea. Especially if said skilled assassin keeps giving her overly enthusiastic girlfriend what she deems are very important defense lessons— _'Never hesitate. Do it like you're making breakfast, babe. Hit it hard until it cracks. Let them fall and watch with pride as they burn'_

It's also best to remember once more that Chloe is a really fast learner.

Leaving him and his pathetic state, Chloe storms away before sharply turning at a corner only to stop abruptly as she crashes into Beca's arms. Her adrenaline is still running high and her emotions all over the place. Everything is happening too fast that she doesn't even know where to begin.

"Come back here, you bitch!" Tom yells, voice loud enough to turn heads towards their direction. The royal guards stepping forward, ready to interfere.

Beca struggles for control and Chloe can feel it. The fire burning inside the Du Pont. If this wasn't a formal event, that dark moment in front of the arts building would've had a repeat. Chloe shivers, not from the cold but from what she feels from Beca. The air around them screams death and the corner of Beca's eyes are starting to flood with red. And suddenly in that moment, only then does she remember Tom's words.

Could Beca possibly do something so brutal to innocent lives?

But fortunately before the situation could escalate, Tom's father is rushing to his side, muttering ardent apologies in front of Beca as he firmly holds his son's arm while his wife, Tom's mother tries to placate her son. Aubrey and her father soon walks towards them and Chloe suddenly realizes just how much she missed her cousin. She and Aubrey used to talk every day, attending sorority parties and just hanging out in their favourite coffee shop. She missed all those badly. And finally, in between the mess, Chloe lands her eyes on her parents.

"Take your son away, Rafaele. I don't think he is capable of holding a decent conversation tonight," Beca says in a surprisingly calm tone yet her eyes look straight at Tom with malice, arms still securely wrapped around Chloe. The Vanderbilt heir is currently being pulled to the side by his mother and Aubrey's father as they try to preserve whatever dignity is left of him.

Rafaele, doesn't seem to like being ordered around by a Du Pont, more so by someone way younger than he is but he swallows down his pride and agrees. "Of course your Majesty, again I apologize in his behalf. This will never happen again," he assures but Beca wasn't finished yet.

"I'd also like to place a restraining order on him. He isn't to come near Chloe, ever again. He even dares cross that line and I'm sorry but I'd have him arrested for harassment. Have I made myself clear?" she says in what would be considered a verbal slap.

"Y-Yes, of course, Your Majesty," Rafaele says, his face becoming pale at Beca's words before bidding them good night despite not glancing at Chloe even once. He turns around as he grabs Tom by the arm and drags him out of the hall. The Vanderbilts follow him one by one. Aubrey looks at Chloe meaningfully before following her father. Lastly, Chloe's parents leave, her mother glancing at her with teary eyes before being slowly pulled away by her father.

The sight of her parents stings Chloe's heart and before she knows it, she's blinking back her own tears. Despite their arguments she still loves them dearly. She is after all their only daughter.

"Chlo," Beca voice breaks her thoughts and only then does she realize how tightly she is holding the Du Pont, her fingers digging through the fine cloth of Beca's dress making wrinkles. When she looks up at Beca's face, concern traces her features and gone is the Queen. Instead, she is replaced by her Midnight.

"Can I," she slowly begins. "Return upstairs now?" she asks quietly and before she knows it, Beca's leading her back to their room now, dropping everything immediately.

It takes a while for Chloe to collect her thoughts. She feels heavy and exhausted. This wasn't how this night was supposed to end. It was supposed to be memorable and happy. But what happened had happened and she prays none of this would reflect badly on Beca's image. Not to mention the obvious strain in the relationship between Beca and Rafaele. Tom's father is after all still part of the council.

Being in the confines of their room, braids finally untangled, Chloe runs her fingers along her now wavier locks. She had just unclasped the lock of the precious necklace Beca herself placed around her neck when the Du Pont suddenly speaks. Her back towards Chloe as she looks out on the breathtaking view of the ocean.

"The mission in Kosovo was to gather intel on illegal underground fighting which involves vampires and werewolves forced to fight to the death. Once we prove that it existed then we call the team and proceed with all the necessary action. It was my first mission as the team leader," Beca exhales heavily as Chloe places the necklace carefully back in the box before turning to her.

"Turns out it did exist and all I had to do was to go back, do the report and plan the raid along with the whole team. But I saw him," Beca pauses, sounding so distant.

"My brother, Stefan,"

Chloe frowns at the thought of Beca's half-brother, the manic look on his eyes, the scar on his face, all the terror he had done and his thirst for revenge. It brings back all those nightmares Chloe had dreamt after the incident.

"It's like he wanted me to know that he was there. That time, it's been almost nine years since he tore my family apart. Seeing him again. I just," Beca pauses again, arms across her chest, fingers drumming just above her elbow.

"I lost it. I blew my cover. Went rogue. Chased after him until I found myself in front of some abandoned building," Beca's fingers suddenly stop and stay still, her voice wavering.

"I walked down to the basement. Out of pure anger, I ignored all the safety precautions. Everything I learned, all gone down the drain. I just wanted to kill him. For my mother. For the change in my father. For me," the Du Pont massages her temples before finally turning towards Chloe.

"I thought they were his men. Faces all covered with masks, holding guns which actually weren't loaded if only I hadn't let my heart control my head. They happened to be orphans, teens, ordinary humans, some almost the same age as I was, some, younger. Picked up from the streets, paid to attack whoever enters and I," she hesitates and Chloe could feel just how hard it must've been, getting over something as traumatic as that.

"Killed them all, sadistically until the whole place looked like a slaughter house. I killed them like a real monster. Once I went at it, I just kept going even though at some point I know something just wasn't right. Everything just went dark for me and I can't stop,"

Beca lowers her gaze, settling it down the floor yet even then she seemed to be so far away. As if she was right back there in Kosovo, realizing the horror of what she had done when Stefan pointed it out, just as he has planned. The fear, the repulsion of her actions, the sight of her bloody hands trembling in front of her and of Stefan telling her words that would crush her even further.

' _You and I are the same, lovey. We bleed the same blood after all,'_

"And still despite that, I failed to kill him. Stabbed him on the chest but I was still trying to recover from what I did. My aim was wrong. I hesitated. I even almost lost my arm in the process and still he lived," Beca shakes her head sadly.

"I told you, I'm evil. I wasn't exaggerating. It runs in the family, apparently. With everything I've done, I'm far from good," she says with a sad smile but it fades just as quick.

Chloe stands up, eyes only on Beca as she crosses the distance between them. The amount of hurt she feels from her love could almost break her.

"You're not evil," she opposes and Beca looks back at her as if she expects nothing less. They've been at this for a total of three times by now. But Chloe doesn't let her say more because tonight, she was going to put an end to this debate.

Once and for all.

"Because evil people aren't filled with guilt or remorse," she says, a hand coming up to rest on Beca's cheek.

"Evil people aren't capable of mercy and compassion," she says, leaning closer until her lips finds home in Beca's. She pulls away slowly, a whisper escaping her as she does.

"You're not evil, Midnight. Because you are capable of love,"

She moves back in, softly kissing the Du Pont. Pulling back again to tilt her head to the side before coming in again for more. It takes a few more seconds before Beca's hands come to life as she pulls Chloe closer to her, a hand on the back of her neck as she kisses her back fervently and desperately. _Finally._

It feels like flying for the first time, exhilarating and amazing. Chloe doesn't let go as she kisses Beca back just as hard. Beca pulls her even closer, the space between them now inexistent. Fingers tangle along her wavy locks and as they part to gasp for air, Beca's lips move to her cheek then down along her jawline before softly nibbling on her ear. Chloe's eyes flutter close, her hand coming up to the back of Beca's head, pressing her closer in a silent plea for more. And more is what Beca gives her, lips leaving a trail of hungry open mouthed kisses along her neck. Unconsciously, Chloe lets out a breathy moan but it was when Beca starts unclasping the lock of her dress that it instantly hits her.

"Becs?" she starts, her voice coming out weak and uncertain. A soft hum is all she gets as a response, lips continuing its assault on her neck, already starting to impatiently rid her of her dress. It's all going too fast and it's suddenly making her nervous.

"B-Beca, wait, stop!" she finally blurts out as she instinctively pulls away leaving Beca looking confused and lost as she searches Chloe's eyes.

"What's wrong? Did I...did I do something—I thought…" Beca stutters, still considerate as ever as she uneasily rubs her neck.

There's just a mixture of embarrassment and confusion in the Du Pont's face that the whole image of her just standing there was just adorable, and to think that she's actually still wearing her crown. If only the situation wasn't so awkward, Chloe would have laughed. But nope, laughing is the last thing in her mind right now.

Beca moves to take a step back but Chloe doesn't let her as she quickly wraps her arms around the Du Pont, stopping her from going anywhere.

"I'm sorry. No, it's not like that. It's not any of that. And it's not your fault," she repeats again and again until Beca hugs her back.

"Then please tell me what's wrong, Chlo," Beca gently asks.

Taking a deep breath, she buries her face on the crook of Beca's neck, shutting her eyes tight before finally admitting, "I haven't… done it before,"

"What do you me—oh," Beca's words come to a stop and Chloe could feel the exact moment when Beca realizes what she really meant. Even in the silence Chloe can already hear the questions floating the Du Pont's mind.

So she decides to make it easier for them both.

"Tom never touched me. I didn't let him. He wanted to but I just couldn't. I wasn't ready. We had this argument because after a while he just couldn't… understand," she exhales, already having a headache just remembering it.

"Hey," Beca softly says, making Chloe look at her. "I'm not him. I can wait. I will wait. There's no need to rush. I told you, I'm right here. I'll be right here, always," Beca says as she cups her face.

But she shakes her head, holding on to Beca's wrists and squeezing them lightly. "No, you don't understand. I wasn't ready, for him and I don't think I'll ever be because," she finally finds the courage to gaze up into her favourite dark blues.

"He wasn't what my heart wanted. Not when that storm came that night and changed everything I thought I knew. It turned my world upside down. I've finally realized it now. That since that day," she breathes out as she is reminded of that alluring image of Beca walking in the doors of Constantine Albert, hair damp from the soft drizzle outside, crosses her mind.

"It's you I've always wanted. Only you," she pours out before Beca kisses her lovingly.

When they part, Beca looks at her earnestly, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she answers with all honesty.

"Do you trust me?" Beca asks again and Chloe doesn't hesitate as she nods.

"Then stop thinking too much. You don't have to try too hard to please me because you already do, god, you don't even know just how much," she says softly before pulling Chloe into her embrace, placing a lingering kiss on her neck.

"Just let me love you," Beca whispers sending goose bumps at the back of her neck.

The Du Pont takes her by the hand as she leads her to the bed where she kisses Chloe as if it were the last time. She breathes out a whisper in Chloe's ear and she obliges, her hands moving to unzip the back of Beca's dress until it falls down the floor leaving her in only her underwear. She's so beautiful that Chloe gapes in awe. It's like time slowing down at that very moment.

The sound of a golden crown falling down the floor breaks the silence like a record playing in slow motion finally moving in real time.

Beca draws her close, placing Chloe's hand against her body, letting her fingers slowly run through the smooth flawless skin, every enticing swell, curve and dip that she's always longed to touch. Beca captures her lips again as she reaches behind to finish what she's started.

Chloe's dress pools down her feet as Beca plants soft lingering kisses along her collarbones, hands slowly discovering every inch of her as if she was such a precious and rare find.

Pausing to take a step back, Beca slowly sits down the bed, eyes roaming Chloe's body in adoration, seductively biting her lips to let Chloe know that she picked the right choice of lacy lingerie and it suddenly makes her feel so self-conscious but Beca doesn't let her linger on that thought as she pulls Chloe towards her, hands on her waist before sliding them towards her back as she lets Chloe step in between her legs, knees hitting the edge of the bed.

Beca wastes no time in showering her body with soft, gentle open-mouthed kisses, taking time to taste every inch of her skin with her lips and leaving a burning trail that makes Chloe hold on to her tight. Her hands move to the back of the Du Pont's head as she lets Beca's lips travel down the swell of her breasts and this time it's her turn to bite her lower lip. Beca's mouth warm on her skin.

Being pulled down even further, she finds herself straddling the Du Pont. Their lips easily find each other, Beca's hand grasping her hair, her body flush against the Du Pont's and when Chloe instinctively moves her hips, they both groan at the effect it brings.

Beca's irises turn red and Chloe is most certain that hers were the shame shade as well, a common trait vampires have when experiencing pleasures of the intimate kind.

She feels a tug on her hair, her head falling back in submission as the Du Pont's lips find interest on her neck once more, gently nipping at the tender flesh as she closes her eyes in satisfaction.

Beca's arm wraps tightly around her waist as she starts rocking Chloe's hips against hers. Her head falls on Beca's shoulder as she wraps an arm around the Du Pont's neck, soft breathy moans escaping her lips. At this point, it seems so hard to believe that she's in Beca's arms in a way that she has repeatedly imagined it to be.

In a smooth motion, Beca flips them over and Chloe's back gently hits the bed. The momentary loss of contact has her pulling down Beca against her, seeking the delicious friction only Beca can give. In a second, she lets out a contented sigh as Beca moves against her, the Du Pont's hips cradling her own.

"Mine," Beca murmurs against her neck before leaving a trail of kisses down her body, whispering the highest form of compliments that make Chloe blush as the Du Pont's lips and tongue drag against every inch of her skin.

"Your mine,"

The words said in French are repeated like a prayer, sincerely and ardently as she worships Chloe's body as if it was the most sacred thing in the world.

Fingers curl on the waistband of her underwear before tugging it down leaving her completely exposed. She's never felt so vulnerable in her life yet she knows there's only one person in the world she'd willingly do it for.

"Beca," her lips weakly mumble as the Du Pont slides down to settle in between her thighs.

The contact is electrifying as Chloe gasps, her body writhing at the sudden jolts of pleasure coursing through her with every sinful swirl of Beca's tongue.

She doesn't even know where to place her hands, fingers gripping around at the sheets as uncontrollable moans slip out of her lips along with Beca's name. Her breathing starts to come in quick and shallow as she grips down on Beca's hair. It feels different, surreal and very, very satisfying. The sight of the Du Pont alone, head in between her legs, is making her blush furiously.

Then it happens.

It was like rain finally crashing down, symphonies reaching its peak and stars falling off the sky. Her back arching as she gives up trying to resist the urge to control, letting herself go completely. She cries out in pleasure, heels digging on the mattress and her head thrown back as her hands find Beca's, fingers intertwining as she holds on tightly.

Her body shudders as she releases sharp broken moans, her legs suddenly shaking uncontrollably. Beca's hands slides up to grab her breast and Chloe grips her wrist in reply. Her hips jerk upwards yet Beca holds her down, continuing in a steady rhythm with no sign of stopping. She doesn't. In seconds, another wave of pleasure follows, rendering herself helpless against such delicious torture.

When Beca finally lifts her head up, slender fingers replace her tongue, making Chloe's legs twitch. She then slowly makes her ascent, lips trailing back upwards and leaving wet kisses all over Chloe's body before placing more attention to her breasts, wrapping her mouth around her peaks.

She plants open-mouthed kisses along her neck, her jaw and finally back on Chloe's lips where Chloe deepens the kiss, her hands moving up to hold Beca's face before sliding up to grip her hair. She lets out a moan as she feels Beca's fingers tracing lazy circles along her folds before hovering near her entrance. She brings her legs together as a reaction, Beca's hand stops moving, trapped in between her thighs.

Her favourite deep blues gaze at her, heavy lidded yet Chloe could read the question in them.

"I love you," she whispers, thumbs grazing Beca's cheek as she holds the Du Pont's face lovingly, their forehead touching.

"I love you too," Beca replies, her free hand caressing Chloe's head.

It doesn't take long until she gives her answer, nodding her head in consent as she offers herself completely.

Beca's finger slowly slips inside her as she suddenly holds tightly on to the Du Pont's arm, letting out a gasp before breaking into a series of broken whimpers, instinctively burying her head on Beca's neck with her eyes shut tight. It takes a while for her to adjust to the intrusion, the mixture of pleasure and pain blending perfectly.

She welcomes it all in.

Beca slowly starts to move as Chloe winces, her nails starting to dig on flesh leaving marks on the Du Pont's back, red painting on her pale white skin that it's almost like artwork.

She slips another finger, stretching her further as Chloe's breathes out sharp moans against the Du Pont's neck. Beca's slowly quickens her pace, a thumb rubbing against those bundle of nerves, driving Chloe closer and closer to the edge once more until she shatters apart, hard.

Beca anchors her down, the Du Pont's body covering hers as she slowly comes down from her high. Beca's warmth is comforting that she tiredly leans the side of her head against the Du Pont's. In a few sweet quite moment, Chloe feels soft kisses being pressed on her cheek. Opening her eyes, she finds Beca gazing back down at her in a way that suddenly stirs her emotions.

The Du Pont's face quickly changes into panic at the sight of her glassy eyes.

"Chlo, are you alright? Was it too much?" Beca asks worriedly and she shakes her head to assure her that there's nothing wrong.

Lightly running her fingers across Beca's face, she blinks back her tears.

"It's just that nobody has ever looked at me like that before," she softly admits. "Like I'm…" she trails off, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye.

"Like you're everything? Like you're all that matters? Like nobody else can compare to you? Like… something along those lines?" Beca supplies with a smile as she gently brushes off her tears.

Chloe nods because that's exactly it and more.

"You are," Beca whispers in between soft lingering kisses until Chloe blushes at a thought. As if they haven't been doing very explicitly intimate things just now.

"Becs?"

"Hm?"

"Do you, like… you know—Do you need to uhm…" she stumbles over her words and fortunately, Beca is so good at picking things up.

The Du Pont smirks as she starts nibbling on the back of Chloe's ear before whispering a promising, "Later" following it with a seductive, "Watching you come _undone_ again and again, and again is already _extremely_ satisfying enough for me," along with that smug smile.

Her words suddenly make Chloe shiver and blush a deep shade of red before squeaking at the sudden little love bite the Du Pont possessively gives her underneath the curve of her jaw. And it drives her crazy because just below that spot, at the area right at that specific vein, her jugular vein, the one that vampires call as the pleasure vein which when bitten down on during love making elicits some sort of effect. Something stronger than any addicting drug known in this world.

It's a bite that would create a mark, a very special one that would last until eternity.

One that can would make Chloe completely Beca's.

 _A soulmate's mark._

And really, she's already doomed at this point when even Beca Mitchell's seductive voice is as of now officially her weakness.

Yet as her eyes start to flutter close as she settles perfectly in Beca's arms, snuggling against her, she concludes that she'd do anything and everything for her Midnight. The future doesn't look as scary as she imagined now.

Their love, her biggest strength.

* * *

 **Author's Note** **:**

I want to go to Greece too.

Important reminder: **"Later"**

Reason for not updating: I got taken by aliens. They brought me into this rainbow colored planet where Bechloe was canon, everyone could love anyone they want without judgement or discrimination, travelling is free, unicorns are real, Alycia Debnam-Carey is my wife and we had a biological child which we named Clarke. But then I had to update this fic so I had to go warp myself back to earth.

Real reason: My annoying perfectionist brain. Because I wasn't satisfied with it last week, I deleted a few things, re-wrote some parts, added some parts and just constantly editing scenes for days. Therefore, I could say that this is the most hardest chapter to write, also the longest I think (although next chapter wants to challenge that fact) and I've never written a long-hopefully something as close to realistic-love scene (take note: I said love scene not fuck scene, if you want something less of romantic and more detailed and dirty go read those kinky fifty shades kind of fiction or something). I like to keep this classy people. Always be classy.

 **So, here I am, bruh.**

Thanks to Shallou and Oliver Riot for making good (sexy) music that I can listen to while I wrote this chapter.

And oh god Midnight Sunshine is on Tumblr! That's so cool. Thanks to **wordsfromfanfics !**

 **Also, thanks to you lovely babes for reading, commenting, following and adding Midnight Sunshine to your favorites!**


	24. You're The Light

**Chapter 24**

* * *

Chloe's remembers the first time she noticed it happen.

That time it wasn't something she thought would require absolute concern. How could she have guessed it when she's wrapped up in her own beautiful, magical, exhilarating and absolutely perfect night of romantic bliss? But yes, thinking about it now she should've seen the signs, blinking brightly overhead like a call for help. Yes, that's what it was.

But what's worse about it is, the horrible truth. She had been the trigger.

Blearily, Chloe feels around with her arms, seeking the warmth that she had fell asleep in. Time already seems to be irrelevant as she had lost track of it a long time ago. Although from the deep orange glow seeping below the thick curtains covering every window of their hotel room she could tell that it's way past midday.

She reaches out but then when her hands feel nothing but cottony sheets and pillows, her eyes blearily seek out her love.

"Becs," she croaks out, eyes still half closed as she starts to look around.

She didn't have to look far. Relief washes over her but not for long. Because she's suddenly getting small hints of something, a certain mixture of feelings which she doesn't understand. It's making her feel cold and it's not because of her lack of clothing. No, it was a different kind of chill. One produced out of horror, of fear and crippling of dread.

It's too dark and Chloe hates it.

Beca sat at the end of the bed, wearing a bathrobe. She has her back towards her and Chloe couldn't see her face. There's a glass in her hand, slightly tilted as the small amount of the amber coloured liquid pools on to the side, probably whiskey. Beca loves whiskey but it had been a while since Chloe saw her drink one.

The Du Pont seemed so deep in thought, gazing far away.

It's cold, so cold, the kind that runs chills down her spine and drains out all of your energy.

Slowly, she reaches out, moving towards Beca until finally, her hands wrap around the Du Pont, her bare body pressed against Beca's back with both her legs at either side of her. The moment she hugs Beca it's like ice melting into a puddle. Light floods everywhere as the warmth slowly creeps in.

Whatever she felt slowly washes away like it was never there as Beca straightens up a bit in surprise before relaxing into her arms. Resting her head against the Du Pont's shoulder, she tightens her embrace still trying to shake off whatever nightmare that had blanketed her earlier.

"Hey," Beca softly greets her before taking her hand to plant a sweet kiss on her inner wrist. "Did I wake you up?"

"This bed is big and you're too far. Now I'm cold," she softly whines in reply. She feels Beca's chest rumble as she chuckles.

"That's very unacceptable. Should I punish the winter winds for making you shiver?" the Du Pont teases while Chloe playfully squeezes her tighter, peppering kisses all over her exposed shoulder until Beca tilts her head to meet her lips.

"I don't think that would be necessary, Your Majesty. I've already found a better solution," she murmurs slyly in between kisses, her lips slowly travelling down to Beca's neck.

Beca sighs in approval and she suddenly feels a small boost of confidence in her. "Becs," she starts, her head pressing against the side of Beca's head.

"Can I," she pauses, hesitating as she begins to worry but decides against it, pushing through the insecurity, "Can I touch you?" because dear god, she badly wants to. It ends up as a whisper but there's certainty in her tone.

Beca stops mid sip before slowly lowering her glass to give Chloe her attention. The look the Du Pont is sporting is smouldering that Chloe might as well get a heart attack with the way she looks at her.

Lifting her glass up to her lips, where Chloe's eyes travel down distractedly, she drinks it all in one go while dark blues stare deeply at her. It reminds Chloe of that time a couple of months ago when the Du Ponts invited them to their first party of the school year.

Separated by a certain amount of distance, as always. Beca standing at the opposite end of the room, back against the wall while she observes quietly. Sipping whiskey until suddenly those blue eyes slip in her direction, unable to resist the pull. Like two elements drawn to each other no matter how far apart they may be.

That was then.

Now, the distance has diminished until there's not even a trace of it. Beca leans closer and just before their lips meet she whispers in a way that instantly makes the temperature rise.

"Always,"

Chloe fumbles, her hands are shaking and really she's about to head into a state of panic. Her heart thumps loudly in her chest there might as well be war drums thumping to an erratic tune. But nonetheless, she's determined to get it right because being absolutely good at everything is already something that had been hot-wired into her system. It's a Vanderbilt trait after all and she grew up as one. Mistakes aren't supposed to be made and flaws are meant to be hidden. That's the centuries old invisible rule. It wasn't said out loud yet it was there, clinging on to her like a disease she can't seem to get rid of.

The pressure is unimaginable.

Comforting hands find hers, "Sunshine, relax," Beca says in her ear, soothingly and softly.

"Breathe. I got you," she whispers again before planting a soft kiss on her jaw.

It helps. It really does and it has Chloe kissing her because Beca's just too beautiful to resist.

"How," she quietly says, breathless, pausing for a moment before continuing, "Tell me how," she says, almost pleads but she doesn't have to elaborate further. Beca knows. She always does.

And perfect maybe a word connected to the impossible and with all that has happened Chloe has learned that she doesn't have to be so. She's coming into terms with it but even though that's the case, she's sure that there's always going to be one exception.

Beca.

Beca will always be the exception.

Because no matter what anyone tells her, Beca deserves perfect and nothing less.

Beca whose bathrobe slips off her shoulders completely leaving her naked, Chloe's bare front now flushed against the brunette's bare back. She guides Chloe's hands along her chest, showing her where she wants to be touched, how she wants to be touched. How she likes it. Every soft moan encouraging her to continue, every press of her lips on Chloe's skin an appreciation, and every squeeze she makes on Chloe's thigh a sign that she's doing it right.

 _Her Beca_

Hands slowly wander along soft skin, exploring every inch of Beca's body until she reaches down further. She hears Beca's breath hitch as Chloe reaches that spot and knows that it's a good sign, her own body heating up at the mere sight before her. The Du Pont sinks into her completely, Chloe's legs cradling her body as she reaches out at the back of her neck urging her on.

Her fingers run through soft folds and knows that Beca's ready for her. _So ready for her._ Chloe doesn't even need to be told what to do. It's instinct. She slips in slowly and Beca's hand comes on top of hers, pressing her in further. It's not enough, she knows, so she adds in another finger and it elicits a moan, head thrown back against her shoulders and dark brown locks cascading down Chloe's skin. It's a seductive sight and she takes delight in knowing that she's caused it.

Pressing open mouthed kisses against Beca's neck, she starts to move, pushing and pulling in a slow pace, trying to find her rhythm. Because Beca only deserves the best. Because Chloe loves this woman so much that there's just no way to compress all that love inside her. So it spills and oozes out because there's just no room left for all of it. It's overflowing and stopping it is useless.

She glides her tongue along Beca's neck until she stops to lightly suck on that pleasure pulse, enough to almost drive Beca over the edge. And she swears, with the way the Du Pont stretches her neck towards even more, that Beca almost seems like she wants her to take that bite. Her fangs dangerously slide down unconsciously and how easy it was to just sink them in. Just take a sip, a taste of that addicting flavour and claim what is hers.

It's calling out to her.

"Chlo,"

Beca's breathy moan breaks her out of her hypnotized stupor so she turns Beca's face towards her with her free hand, kissing her hard. Beca's whimpers are muffled against her mouth and Chloe knows she's finally hit that spot, her fingers curling upwards. She builds up her pace, her wrist starting to ache but the way Beca's hips start to rock against her means she's close. A few steady thrusts more and Beca's body stiffens. Her hands tightly grasp Chloe's legs as she buries her face underneath her jaw. A desperate 'Fuck' coming out of her lips along with heavy uneven breaths as her body shudders.

Chloe feels her clench around her fingers, tightly, and only when Beca's legs snap close does she finally stay completely still, walls squeezing around her fingers. When she pulls out, Beca's hips lightly jerk before her body finally starts to relax, going limp in Chloe's arms.

Beca deserves only the best and Chloe is willing to give it to her until her last breath.

She presses a soft kiss on the side of Beca's head and after a couple of moments the Du Pont stirs in her arms, body turning to face her. Before Chloe knows it, she's suddenly pushed back down the bed, body pinned down and trapped in between limbs. Her surprised yelp swallowed by a passionate, bruising kiss that would certainly leave her lips swollen. When she looks up, there's hunger in her favourite dark blues and it's the kind of hunger that has Chloe's heart racing in anticipation.

Clearly, sleeping is unnecessary.

Not when Beca isn't holding back on showing her just how much she wants her.

Not when Beca wants her really bad.

Not when Chloe has no intention on stopping her.

Not when she wants her just as bad.

* * *

She wakes up with a smile on her face as she stretches a bit, pausing as she feels Beca's arm draped around waist. The sheets pool down their hips and with Beca pressed against her, sharing body heat, she figures that there's really no need for blankets. Their legs are tangled below and it takes a while for her to carefully slip out of bed without waking the sleeping Du Pont. Her body feels sore in all the right places and Chloe is not complaining.

Her mornings can start like this every day.

Planting a tender kiss on Beca's head, she then tiptoes around the room, grabbing one of Beca's gray oversized shirts and pyjama shorts. Slipping into them, she smiles at how they smell like Beca before padding across the room towards the hotel's telephone. She orders room service and once the food arrives she heads back in their room, quietly crawling back in the bed and wrapping her arms around the Du Pont to shower her with soft adoring kisses, half her body already on top of Beca.

The brunette underneath her slowly stirs and at this point, it should be known that Beca has a record for sleeping through an earthquake. The Du Pont actually values her early evenings so much and nobody would even dare of ruining them. The last person who did ended up having a night lamp thrown at their face—not to be confused with the one who got their throat cut for suddenly hugging the elusive Du Pont.

Yet as Chloe nuzzles against her cheek, Beca only tangles her fingers around Chloe's as she lets out a sigh and slowly opens her eyes to the sight of red wavy hair scattering all over her face. But even so, her lazy smile is visible and what a perfect way to wake up indeed.

"I got us dinner," Chloe says, pushing herself up with her arms to look down at Beca who shifts to lie down on her back, looking up at her. From Chloe's point of view, it's a very lovely sight.

Beca's eyes wander down her body and a frown suddenly graces her features. "How can I _eat_ when you have clothes?" she slyly says, an eyebrow arching up. Also, that husky undertone to her voice is making her feel things again.

"I meant real food," she points out as Beca moves to sit up, bringing Chloe with her so she's straddling Beca's lap. Arms wrap around her middle as she feels the Du Pont giving her open mouthed kisses across her neck.

Her eyes flutter close as she sinks into Beca's arms. They stay like that for a while. Melting into each other's embrace, Beca's face buried in her neck while she presses her nose in Beca's hair, breathing her in.

Things feel different now or better yet, even more special. The invisible chain connecting them together tightening even more, if that was even possible. Beca's heartbeat dances in tune to her own much prominently now.

She can't even imagine how being branded of the soulmate mark would be like. If she already feels so deeply for her beautiful brunette now, how much more would it be like when they take that next leap? Their case had always been so different than the rest because they're already eternally bonded together since they were eleven.

Sometimes she laughs at the thought that maybe what they did years ago already constitutes as marriage and they just didn't know about it. Maybe Beca's already her wife and that concept alone makes her insides twist in excitement. She likes that thought a lot.

"I'm being attacked in all directions with gooey and giddy feelings. I'm afraid you're going to explode in glittering neon colours any moment now," Beca mumbles monotonously against her neck and Chloe bursts into giggles.

She keeps forgetting that their connection doesn't just work one way.

"Get used to it," she throws back with a laugh, pressing a quick kiss on Beca's lips before moving to get off her.

"Five more minutes," Beca softly pleads, tightening her hold on around Chloe's waist.

It's useless to fight those deep blue eyes so Chloe gives in. Months ago, she wouldn't have imagined being this happy and so, so in love with the Du Pont who only had harsh stinging words and cold silent glares for her. A million tears and heartbreaks later, the angry words that had constantly pierced her chest had now turned into soft, sweet melodies whispered into her ear, flowing down until it reaches her heart where it settles perfectly and the looks of hatred had turned into warm, loving gazes of adoration spared only for her.

This thought would follow Chloe until she successfully drags Beca out of bed so they could finally start their night with delicious Mediterranean cuisines, lingering kisses in between comfortable silences and legs tangled underneath the table.

 _Is it crazy to be into someone this much?_

They could just wordlessly stare at each other and fall in love again and again until the stars start exploding in the sky.

 _Not when you've finally found the other half of your soul._

* * *

The second time Chloe noticed it happen was when they finally return back home.

Three days in Greece was certainly not enough and Chloe's already set on sailing back to Mykonos with Beca anytime next year. Maybe even make a stopover in Paris along the way.

But for now, she'd have to try not to blush furiously at the way Stacie is smirking knowingly at her considering the bright smile and rosy glow she is sporting now that tells the older Conrad that, obviously they finally did, according to Beca's long legged cousin, the 'wham bam shang-a-lang' and thankfully, Aubrey isn't anywhere nearby because her cousin is sure to relentlessly tease her about it _._

Thankfully, any attempt of Stacie throwing more teasing in the form of subtle comments with double meanings are squashed down as the younger Du Ponts greet her sweetly with bone crushing hugs. Jesse fondly calls her the mother hen of the house while the twins demand for their souvenirs, as if they haven't been to Greece three times.

It was all supposed to go back to normal.

Back to university life, Beca DJ-ing at the club, Chloe supporting in said gigs and the usual mundane activities.

Not like this, waking up in the middle of the day breaking in cold sweat as a certain chill creeps in her spine, wrapping around her bones and gripping tightly at her heart. The constant feeling of fear, paranoia and anxiety momentarily disorients her but when her senses kick in, Chloe instinctively reaches out for the one thing that she knows is safe.

Beca.

However, her arms meet an empty spot where her love was supposed to be and this time the thought of Beca not by her side scares her more than the twisted creepy feelings she is currently assaulted with. Fighting through the haze of sleep and confusion, she searches around until she finds her favourite brunette, sitting at the edge of the bed, swirling a glass of whiskey in a hypnotizing manner.

Weakly, she crawls towards her, reaching out until she wraps her arms around Beca. She embraces her tightly, clinging as if she would die if she let go. The contact instantly drenches her with warmth like a comfortable blanket. A breath of relief escapes her lips.

"Hey," Beca softly says as she turns to press her lips against the side of Chloe's head.

The gesture instantly chases away the remnants of the nightmare she had drowned into moments ago and Chloe's heartbeat drops into a calmer rhythm.

"It's cold," she blurts out without even thinking and Beca finishes her drink.

The Du Pont doesn't even need to be told twice as she places her empty glass towards the bedside table and moves to join Chloe at the middle of the bed. Chloe, however, doesn't miss the other object Beca places next to it, the one she had been holding in her other hand, twirling it absentmindedly even before Chloe had reached out to her. A dagger with a blade sharp enough to pierce straight into someone's heart with the right amount of force.

Beca never really takes out any of her knives. As a matter of fact, Chloe's never seen her with one ever since that horrible event that claimed hundreds of lives. It had only ever been present in times of danger or when Chloe suggested the blood contract. Until now, whenever she thinks of that day she could still feel the sting from the wound on her palm to be honest.

But when Beca holds her tightly against her and runs a hand through her auburn locks, Chloe forgets everything and easily drifts back to sleep.

It really wasn't supposed to be anything.

It's just some random coincidence that she really shouldn't be making a big deal of.

But when it happens for the third, the fourth and finally the fifth time, each occurrence getting darker and drearier, Chloe knows something isn't right. The nightmares are beginning to return and sometimes, if she were to be honest, it doesn't feel like dreams. It feels real. Too real and that scares her. And yet despite that it is probably the denial to the growing problem in the middle of her happiest moments that had kept her from actually facing it.

But when Beca badly injures her sparring partner on one of their sessions at the gym, putting no disregard to her partner's desperate sign of surrender, Chloe knows that there's clearly something that is seriously bothering her beloved Du Pont. The chill that she had only felt in the middle of her sleep heavily coating the atmosphere and putting her in momentary shock.

Chloe had been the only one to step in the ring and successfully pull Beca back. She didn't like to dwell on the thought of what would've happened if she hadn't been there.

Meanwhile, the Du Pont admits that she got a little carried away after she snaps out of it. Her deep blue eyes settle down on the poor soul being medically attended to and Chloe frowns at the lost look she sees in them.

It's like she didn't know what she was doing.

 _She didn't know what she had just done._

But then figuring it all out isn't a job for just one person. This seems deep yet she wasn't sure of it either.

So she goes to the one person she's been running to for advice whenever Beca isn't around.

"Stace?" Chloe calls as she reaches the kitchen.

The long-legged brunette had her back towards her as she starts brewing some tea to start her night before cooking what every vampire considers as breakfast and what every ordinary human considers as dinner.

"You here early to sneak in an extra waffle on your plate?" Stacie quips as she eyes her fondly.

"Not really but that idea is tempting," Chloe replies with a smile, fingers drumming against the counter as she mentally debates on how to open the issue.

"Well, you've been keeping the grumpy otter queen extra happy and therefore the kingdom has been peaceful so I guess you deserve extra blueberry waffles," Stacie hums as she sips her tea and somehow Chloe is reminded of Aubrey and her love of tea.

Which then leads to the idea of having to invite them both over for some quality bonding time. Maybe she can enjoy tea time with two of her closest friends—she's actually done it with Emily and Scott that one time. It would certainly be done in secret because unfortunately, Vanderbilts and Du Ponts still don't get along, although it would also be great and hilarious at the same time with both of them being such polar opposites to each other.

Putting aside that thought for now, Chloe starts her attempt to tackle the minor issue she is dying to clear up. She has questions and she just wants to be sure before opening it up to Beca.

So she goes for it without thinking much into it, "There's actually something that I need your opinion on," she suddenly says and the gravity of her tone is enough to make Stacie look at her with concern.

"Is this a sex question?" Stacie whispers after a second and Chloe, certainly not expecting it, blushes at the thought of the intimate and highly satisfying _activities_ she and Beca had been doing regularly every now and then—or whenever Beca is free from royal duties. Even more so, when Stacie begins to expound on it, "Is this about sex toys? 'Cause you know I can give you suggestions," the tall brunette winks playfully.

"N-No! This isn't about… _that_ ," Chloe quickly stutters, looking down at the pot of tea as her mind suddenly fills up with inappropriate images, Beca being the centre of it all. And really, this isn't the right time to get all hot and bothered when there are important things she needs to discuss.

"Oh, well then what is this about?" Stacie says, straightening up as she waits for her.

"Uhm, I was just wondering," she starts, taking a deep breath before getting on to it, "About Beca. Has she always had… insomnia?" she slowly asks, careful not to get her words wrong.

Stacie blinks in reply, lowering her cup of tea as a frown visibly appears on her face.

"It's been a while since Beca had trouble sleeping," Stacie answers in an equally slow manner. "That cousin of mine loves to sleep as much as I love tea and making out with the hottest person in the room but sometimes stress and some certain heavy issues do tend to cause irregular sleeping patterns," she continues and Chloe can't help but notice the careful tone as if there was something Stacie herself is heavily weighing in her head.

So the need to keep pushing fuels her. Chloe always been very inquisitive especially if something doesn't feel right. She always had this need to care about things that most people would have just brushed off. Aubrey had even joked that she'd had been more suited in journalism once.

With her Beca being the main topic of her concern, it amplifies this part of her even more. "I see. But the thing is, I have this feeling that this one goes beyond politics. She's sort of been… having this strange vibe lately," she lets out a heavy sigh, suddenly wondering if maybe she was just making something big out of nothing.

"I mean, I wake up at some point in the middle day and she's awake, drinking whiskey and sharpening blades. Then this incident happened yesterday where she just kept beating up Paul with so much… anger and it's like she's… too wrapped up in something that is bothering her. I want to try and talk to her about it but every time I do she seems fine and really happy—"

"What was she doing at the middle of the day again?" Stacie suddenly cuts her off abruptly, holding on to her arm to emphasize the importance of the question.

"Drinking whiskey and well, you know how she loves her knives—"

"Where was she facing?" Stacie again interrupts her and this time the urgency is evident in her tone and it's making Chloe worried.

"Uhm, I, well, she sits at the end of the bed and she's facing," she prolongs the last word, trying to remember exactly how she finds Beca whenever she wakes up from one of her nightmares.

"The door," Stacie provides for her yet it wasn't even a question. The brunette was sure of it.

And she is right.

"Yes, but why—"

This time, Stacie doesn't let her finish by taking her by the arm and pulling her away towards the back door. On their way, they bump into the twins whom Stacie quickly mutters a very serious, "It's Beca. We have to talk. Now,"

There's something in the way that the twins look at each other and follow them outside without a word or a joke that makes this whole situation even more severe than Chloe had thought at first.

"Stace, what's happening?" she finally breathes out after they had headed off towards the big old oak tree nearby.

The long-legged brunette is pacing around as she massages her temples while the twins only shrug when Chloe looks at them for answers.

"Do we need to blow up someone's yard?" Nick finally asks, rather seriously and Chloe seems to have an idea that this isn't the first time he suggested this. Although, she really shouldn't be surprised anymore.

But Stacie doesn't have time for children's games as she faces her cousins, looking at each one of them dead in the eye, "Beca's _falling_ again,"

That sentence can't be good, especially when both Nick and Nate's faces fall into shock. Both of them silent at her words and Chloe just can't stand it anymore.

"Can somebody please tell me what's going on?" she breaks through desperately and impatiently.

But what she gets is something far worse than she has ever expected. When Stacie turns to her, the words coming out of her lips are the words Chloe would never guess she'd ever say.

"Beca had been kidnapped when she was eight. Only a week after her mother's burial,"

"W-What?" she stammers weakly as she looks from one Du Pont to the next. There's no smile on their faces, nothing that says it was joke or a prank. But it had to be a joke. If it were real then wouldn't they all have known about it?

Beca's father was King that time. The tragedy that had happened placed him and his family in the centre of gossip. The poor King who had lost his Queen, the other half of his soul and the mother of his precious daughter. And now this information about Beca being kidnapped one week after her mother had been laid to rest just makes Chloe unable to imagine what sort of pain that must've have been. Both for Darius and Beca. There were just too many questions and it flows out of her before she could even make sense of anything.

"By whom? For how long? And why does nobody know about this?" she presses on.

The image of Beca entering Constantine Albert a year after her mother died constantly appearing in her head. She and Beca had been best friends for three years after that, even going as far as binding their souls together, and yet this was the first time she had heard of this.

She felt furious, sad and confused all at the same time. What kind of horrible person would do such thing and to a child who has just lost her mother at that?

"Five months. It had been kept under wraps so as not to interfere with the operation in order to bring her back. And… you already know who. You've met _him_ under very unpleasant circumstances," Stacie answers sadly.

It was just too much to process. Chloe had already lost it at the first answer because being kidnapped is a nightmare. She knows what it's like and it had only been a day. One hell of a day to be exact. To be in hell for five months, death would've been paradise.

She stops her train of thought at this point because it reminds her of Beca's careless attitude with regards to her own life before they got together. How quickly she jumps into danger. How eager she was to fight and keep going until her body just gave up. How easy it was for her to tell Chloe to 'let go' when they were at the edge of the cliff. How there wasn't even a trace of fear in her eyes as she looked up straight into the camera before plunging her sword straight into her own heart and—

"Stefan,"

Chloe's blood runs cold at the thought of Beca's half-brother. Of course, who else could've done something so vile but him? He had not only killed Robbyn. He made Beca want death, constantly peering into the edge and wishing to take that leap.

He was a monster.

Beca had been his favourite victim.

"It was him," Stacie says and before she could say anything else. Chloe just gives in to her emotions.

"After the threat that he had caused when he killed Beca's mother, how could they have let that happen? They should have strengthened the security! They should've protected her with everything they had! How'd they even let him live and set loose to wreck havoc on her life again and again is beyond me! With her mother, Kosovo and the tragedy here at Victor Barden, he has mentally and emotionally tortured her for years! And now, even after his death, he is still torturing her!" she cries out, heart aching. Aching for Beca and the cruel life she had lived underneath that devil's clutches.

Beca deserved nothing but the best. Only the best. If Chloe had to fight for that right she'd be at the front of the line waging war.

But then if she thought this information was enough to shake her world, she'd find just how twisted the heavens could be sometimes.

"You know about Kosovo?" Nate asks and Chloe nods.

"Beca told me. How Stefan used those children to make her think that they were enemies. He's a manipulative bastard from the very beginning," she mutters in anger, shaking her head.

"What else?" Nate asks again.

"She almost lost her arm and she got to stab Stefan on the chest. She missed her aim,"

"And that's it?" Nate continues and Chloe doesn't like where this seems to be heading. It feels like there's more to this story than what she had been told and Chloe doesn't know if she wants to hear the rest of it.

Maybe she does.

 _Maybe she needs to._

Beca is a part of her now. Flooding her system, souls locked in to each other, filling up her heart and melding right into her. They're almost one.

"Tell me," she finally says after swallowing hard, her eyes determinedly looking at the cousins.

The twins slowly look at Stacie as if they are leaving it all up to her while Chloe waits with bated breath.

"I think she has to know," Nick says, cocking his head towards Chloe as he looks at Stacie. "She's already… family," he adds before drawing his attention back at her.

This time, Stacie sighs heavily before finally opening her lips and Chloe braces herself for what she's about to hear.

"We got Beca back after almost five months," she begins, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"And everyone thought the worst. An eight year old in the clutches of the most notorious murderer the council has ever encountered. She would've been traumatized and that's why her father brought her to the best therapy specialists and psychologists there was. Anything that could help her heal," Stacie continues.

"They also wanted to get information about Stefan and his whereabouts, his plans," she pauses, looking down at her feet.

"You met her about a month after that incident. I'm guessing you became best friends around that time. Was there any sign of fear, withdrawal, anger, mood swings or any disturbing habit one would acquire as a traumatized kidnapped victim?"

The question throws her mind to the nine year old Beca, smiling as she talks about her favourite countries, her excitement as they play in the garden with their adventures, warm hugs and speaking of her happy memories with her mother or of the plans they had for the future. Beca had acted like any normal child. Shy at times, playful when it's just the two of them and extremely caring towards her. Other than the fact that she had been a target of bullying, her innocence and pureness of heart remained intact in spite of her mother's absence.

"Beca never misses her aim, Chloe. She'd been trained to stab hearts ever since she entered Underworld. Her aim was her best skill. No matter the situation, that's how she was trained. Her father made sure that she'd never be weak. That in the event of a dangerous situation like that she wouldn't be totally helpless. She'll never miss," Stacie says as she steps closer to Chloe.

"You've been asking the wrong questions," she tells her.

"Contrary to what we all first believed, you aren't Beca's first friend. She already had one when she met you and this one, I believe, she loved as much as she loves you,"

Stacie's words ring at her ear like they were a foreign language. It's too hard for her to comprehend all of it and she doesn't know if she still can go on listening. If nightmares can follow you into the real world, Chloe was sure that this is one.

"Stefan didn't die in Kosovo not because Beca missed her aim. Stefan lived because Beca let him live and escape. She would never kill the brother she loved so dearly. Beca wasn't traumatized as a child because it wasn't kidnap. Her therapy sessions had been a shocking revelation," Stacie pauses, trying to gauge a reaction out of her but nothing was coming out. She was frozen and everything around her just dies in silence.

"The truth is, Beca had willingly went with Stefan and lived with him for five months in different countries with the happiest of memories until they got separated. The testament to her loyalty to him is now clear that even with you she never gave away anything about him," Stacie says without missing a beat.

And clearly, keeping something from someone you love dearly is almost as heavy as a horrible lie blatantly said in front of your face.

"The bond between siblings can be very powerful. Sometimes, even as strong as the bond between soulmates," Stacie continues, her words said with conviction what with the tight bond she shares with her own sister, Stella.

The twins look at each other, truly understanding what she had meant while Chloe shakes her head in denial.

"Beca and Stefan share that kind of bond,"

 _Wake me up from this nightmare._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Don't kill me, okay? Breathe. Calm down, darling. I know you have questions. A ton of them, I can _totes_ feel it. **

So yeah, I was writing this chapter for almost two weeks (a lot has also happened and my god, it was Brittany Snow's birthday! Camila Cabello who has a boyfriend, who I will fucking kill if he doesn't treat her right, dropped the mv for Never Be the Same and my gorgeous wife Alycia Debnam-Carey got out of hibernation to spam me with photos, and well now that her vacation is done she's uhm sadly hibernating again) when I suddenly stopped typing to stare at it for about a minute only to realize that damn it's too long and I need pizza because I'm hungry. But really, it deserves to have another chapter to thoroughly circle around what is probably the missing years of Beca's life. So I split it in two. I'm only halfway done with the second half and I'm going to release it when I do. It could be tomorrow or two days from now, depends on my schedule to be honest.

Now I'm going to go back to bed and crash because I'm tired from walking for hours getting shit done, buying groceries, stuffing myself with like a large family size pizza. Not kidding, it really was a large family size pizza. Although I had help devouring it. Still, I feel heavy and I'm going to go... sleep like a real panda.

 **Also, I like it when you guys look for me. Keeps me motivated. You sweet babes *wink *wink So, yeah, go ahead and yell at me for an update all you want at the inbox or at the comments section to wake me up. I won't be mad.**

 **Thanks for reading, following, commenting and adding Midnight Sunshine to your favorites.**


	25. In My Deepest, Darkest Hour

**Chapter 25**

* * *

 **Neuilly-sur-Seine, France**

 **11 years ago**

"What are you drawing, Beca"

"A dragon,"

"Is that the dragon who took you far away from home?"

"He's my friend,"

"Your friend? Are you not afraid of him? Dragons are dangerous,"

"He is my friend and no, he would never hurt me,"

* * *

 **Pristina, Kosovo**

 **3 years ago**

The crowd cheers like hyenas around the ring as the two fighters, a werewolf and a vampire clash in the middle of the ring. Fangs bared, claws unsheathed and eyes flashing in red and yellow. The second round is proving to be bloodier and much more brutal as the fighters wrestle each other to the ground. Yet it seems that the upper hand is in the werewolf's favour as he continues to rain earth shaking punches down at the vampire.

Beca observes the fight, head tilting a bit with an eyebrow arching up at the bloody mess happening in front of her while she adjusts her outfit. She pulls her tight tank top down, making sure to show a good amount of cleavage before reaching at the bottom of said top to roll it up and tying it just below her breasts because exposing her abs and the swell of her breasts are a requirement if you are to get up the arena before every round, walk around in front of all the perverts and hold up a card to indicate the number of rounds.

Clearly, the downside to undercover operations for female undercover agents is the _shitty_ roles you are given. Unlike her partner and new found drinking buddy, Gareth, who is standing on the side with _the very difficult_ job of standing outside the ring to bet for his chosen fighter, being sixteen years old and a female is highly unusual to be out lurking in underground illegal fighting dens that are forcing vampires and werewolves to fight to the death.

Beca thinks it's unfair and that equality is also a problem not only in the human world but also in theirs.

Regardless, she's done a great job in gaining information about the rumoured existence of underground illegal fighting dens and only needs to report it to the people upstairs before being granted permission for the raid, a raid which she is going to have the privilege of leading. Now that's a rare accomplishment for a sixteen year old, in general and in her field, and the thought enough is good to calm her anger.

Anger at the fact that the ring manager, a middle aged perverted pig named Uno, is ordering her to 'show more skin', smile as if she likes being mentally stripped down by the other pigs and keeps slapping her ass whenever she makes her way up. Surely, the pedophile is number one on her hit list. She does have one and it is piling up with names of ugly ass jerks who all want to get in her pants ever since she started this operation.

Once all this is over, she's going to be crossing out names on her list with a wide, genuine smile on her face.

The bell rings out and it takes a while before the werewolf actually stops and raises his fists up in the air proudly to the cheering people. On the other hand, the vampire crawls weekly to a corner, face and body filled with blood as Beca finally makes the final adjustments to her skimpy jean shorts. Five minutes is all it takes before she makes her way up the caged arena, passing by the perverted pig whose eyes rove down her body lustfully and receiving another butt slap which makes her pause for a second or two before remembering to quell down her anger and finish the job. She's going to enjoy beating the crap out of Uno's face after this is all over.

But for now, she's going to have to put up a fake smile, raise up the card that says '3' and circle the ring while disgusting cat calls echo all over the place.

She was supposed to head out of the arena after walking around twice and that's it, the end of her job but this night seems to have other plans by throwing something unexpected along her way.

When she makes her way back, her steps falter, her lips hang open, the card falls from her hands and her wide eyes begin to water. She freezes on the spot as her deep blue orbs connect with the same shade of blue watching her from the end of the room.

But the connection breaks as she's suddenly pulled out of the ring and into Uno's arms, his disgusting hands already roaming down her back until he squeezes her ass with his equally disgusting smile.

"Our little vampire getting a little thirsty from all the blood?" he asks her, smoke breath from the cigarettes he'd been smoking hitting her face.

She looks up at him expressionless, a tear rolling down her cheek as she speaks in a low tone, "I am now," before swiftly swinging a knife up underneath his chin, his eyes filled with shock and terror.

She pulls the knife out of him as shouts erupt and chaos explodes everywhere. Uno's men hurry towards her with the intent to kill but they all drop dead one by one, a knife coming up to their skulls and hearts with such perfect accuracy. Gareth yells at her, pleading her to stop but it's too late. She's too far gone, all because of the appearance of one, Stefan Sala.

Her brother leaves the scene as if nothing happened while she follows him, leaving a trail of dead bodies behind her.

She passes through a series of twists and turns until they emerge out into a back alley where Stefan takes another turn at the far end. Gareth pulls out his gun before handing his spare towards her. Together, they follow him until they find him heading towards an open street, walking towards a black muscle car parked on the side.

Gareth fires his gun up in the air and this brings Stefan instantly to a stop. He doesn't flinch, only stops and Gareth orders him to turn around.

"Stefan Sala, you are wanted for the grave crimes you have committed against the crown and its people. You have to come with us," Gareth says in a firm tone.

He complies, turning around slowly with his hands coming up to level his head. When he looks up, his eyes find hers. For the next few moments, they will remain there.

"On your knees! Now!" Gareth yells as they both take careful steps towards him, guns aimed and hearts beating from the adrenaline rush. Experience says that this encounter can go a million ways no matter how prepared you thought you are.

And sometimes it'll always end in the scenario that you expected the least.

Stefan doesn't yield. He remains on his feet, eyes looking only at her. It only takes one look and three twitches of a finger from Stefan for things to go south.

Three twitches is all it took for Gareth to lose his voice as he freezes, a gun aimed behind his head. It took a minute to let the situation sink in and finally Beca's partner slowly drops his weapon, body stiffening at the realization.

"What's the meaning of this, Mitchell?" he asks in a tone of utter betrayal.

"I'm sorry," Beca almost whispers before taking his weapon and keeping her aim towards him steady.

It certainly doesn't take a minute for him to drop dead on the ground as Beca's chest jumps from shock. Stefan lowers his own gun, wisps of smoke still evident from the nozzle of his weapon, the bullet now lodged at the center of Gareth's heart. Gareth, who is now lying cold on the floor.

Beca's eyes remain fixed on the dead body, gun still in her hand as she blinks away the rush of emotions. She hears Stefan walk towards her, taking off his coat and placing it around her shoulders. Warmth envelopes her as he blocks her vision from Gareth, both Stefan's hands on the side of her face as he plants a soft kiss on top of her head. A tender act he'd always done ever since she was a child.

"Becs,"

The nickname breaks away her haze as she looks up at him. He was the first to call her that and yet it also unfortunately reminded her of expressive baby blue eyes, smiles that reminded her of sunshine and strawberry red locks that smelled like flowers.

It's a dangerous thought and thoughts like that aren't supposed to be entertained.

"He had to go. C'mon now," Stefan says as he starts walking towards the car.

When she doesn't follow, he looks back at her and extends his hand out to her, a gesture she had grown up with as well.

It was never a question and it'll never be.

 _Always and until the end_

* * *

 **Neuilly-sur-Seine, France**

 **11 years ago**

It had been a week since eight year old Beca's mother was laid to rest. A week since sleeping became hard and happy dreams of flying to wonderful places have turned into nightmares of falling into a dark pit of the unknown.

Sometimes she can still see it, the blood seeping from underneath the door. It scares her and yet no matter how hard she cries nothing will happen.

It's already late in the day but she remains awake, sitting at the edge of her bed, holding a lollipop on her hand. The Vanderbilt princess had given it to her a week ago and now she finds a bit of comfort with it.

A noise makes her turn her head around. It's time and Beca's chest fills up with anticipation and longing. Her window opens and when the thick cream coloured curtains are pushed to the side, the afternoon sunshine spills a bit as an effect and a smile grows on her lips. She quickly jumps out of bed and hurries to the arms that have always made her feel safe.

"Stepy!"

She happily says his nickname as he lifts her up from the floor. Her arms immediately wrap around his neck, hugging him tightly as he does the same, his head leaning against hers.

Not being able to pronounce the letter 'f' when she was a toddler, Beca had fondly called him 'Step Step' which then evolved into 'Stepy' and well, she never gotten rid of it as she thinks it's cute even if he still doesn't think so.

"You feel lighter," Stefan suddenly tells her in fluent French as he brings her back down the floor and this time she avoids his gaze, holding the lollipop tighter. "Have you not been eating all your meals again, lovey?" he follows with a much stricter tone and she bites her lip.

Beca always hated disappointing him.

Being close siblings and with Stefan being the one she always looks up to, she's always fought for his affection, always wanting to be the center of his attention. She can also never keep a secret from him.

"They don't cook like mommy does. It tastes different," she quietly admits, eyes looking down the ground.

She waits for him to tell her how he had already reminded her to finish all her meals, how he made her promise that she'd be good and eat her vegetables no matter how bad they taste. But he doesn't.

Instead, she feels him embrace her tight, leaving her with only a soft, "I'm sorry,"

It sounded so heavy, so sad and years later she will realize just how much those words hold and how hard they will shatter her heart.

But at that time, none of that was important. What was is the fact that Stefan doesn't seem like his usual self. Even at a young age, Beca can tell that something's not right. Her brother keeps pacing and running a hand through his hair, an anxious trait she'd easily acquire from him.

When he stops to kneel in front of her again, holding both her shoulders, Beca knew that some things are about to change.

"I'm leaving,"

The words coming from his lips are hard to understand at once. He always left after his visits every week. It's the part she dislikes the most. It had been countless times when she had begged and pleaded him to stay, to live with them instead. She had even desperately offered her room for him to sleep in and clung to his leg when he tried to leave.

It's useless though.

He's always gone when she wakes up.

Today, his words seem to stir fear and worry inside her because this time, it seems like she'd never get to see him again. She'd just lost her mother and now this. It's too cruel.

"I have to go far away, Becs. I can't visit you anymore when I do," he slowly explains while she instinctively grips on to the cuffs of his leather jacket, her lower lip trembling at the thought.

"Go where? How long?" she asks, as her fingers dig unto his jacket as if he'd disappear any second now.

Stefan doesn't answer and he seems to be thinking about it very carefully. For a few moments they just look at each other. Their connection as siblings had always been strong due to their closeness. Her brother had been in her life since she was born and despite the strange arrangement they had wrapped in a secret he had made her promise to keep, Stefan is family and life without him is a life Beca cannot live in.

And she knows it's the same for him.

"Do you want to come with me?" he asks, gently touching her cheek.

She wants to eagerly say yes, but then there are also things she can't just leave behind, "How about daddy?"

The question changes something in his eyes and she can see it clearly. She can feel it too but she's used to it. It's always the case whenever she talks about their father.

Beca had always known that she has a brother. It's no secret within the family that Darius has two children and it's no secret either that his relationship with his son had been rocky. There were things that they didn't agree upon and forcing Stefan to study in Russia had only made things worse between them. Their father wanted him to be the best. But Stefan loved being the worst and the worst he became.

But in his defense, if there was one thing he was the best at, it's how protective he is of his baby sister.

Darius didn't like him being around Beca. His daughter's fondness for her older brother had always been clear and strong from the beginning. Which was why he had even forbade Stefan from being close to her but it was obvious that there is nothing that he could say to stop them from being apart.

Stefan would sneak her out of the house so they can play in the park. They'd eat ice-cream, chocolates and candies while Beca happily sits on his shoulders, giggling whenever they would play pirates conquering other ships.

"Father would know that you're with me," Stefan finally says as he stands up and walks over to the window.

He turns back towards her and with a smile, he reaches his hand out to her like he always does when they'd go 'explore islands' outside.

She looks at his hand and doesn't even think when she literally runs to take it.

It was never a question and it'll never be.

 _Always and until the end_

* * *

 **Pristina, Kosovo**

 **3 years ago**

"What took you so long?"

The question she had been asking for years comes up as they sit at some cheap bar at a shady neighbourhood. It smells almost like the underground fighting ring but a little bit better because at least there's food and she's hungry. She hadn't planned on suddenly bringing up such a heavy topic yet her emotions dictate otherwise.

It's been years since she last saw him.

He was half the reason she officially enlisted in the Underworld in hopes of finding him in the darkest of places. Stefan had always been the definition of danger and that's why Beca is quick to enter herself in an organization that faces danger, much to their father's anger. He may have wanted Beca to learn how to protect herself, but to have her end up dancing with death is something he didn't ask for. She joined the organization even before he can do something about it.

It's been years, two to be exact. It's the longest they had been apart and due to the nature of his _businesses_ , his absence had constantly worried her. The 'what if's' had scared her, to the point that has her insomnia and paranoia coming back stronger than it had been before. Without her brother by her side, nobody was there to stop the nightmares in her head from coming alive.

Stefan looks up from his whiskey, placing down his glass before reaching out to take her hand. "But I'm here now. I'm here and this time it's for good. We'll go places and blow shit up just like we planned. I promise,"

When she doesn't say anything, he squeezes her hand, making her look up at him. She could tell that he sees the hurt in her eyes and that's why he pulls her hand closer to him as he leans towards her, reaching out with his other hand to place it on the side of her face, his thumb softly grazing her cheek.

"I promise," he says firmly, looking at her straight in the eye.

She leans into his touch and no words are needed.

It's risky to completely trust someone so much. Beca knows this. She knows about the rumours. She'd been told about them, about what he was being accused of. She doesn't believe them.

But her heart had always been her downfall.

She's already lost half of her soul and heart.

Yet here she was again, falling into the same trap.

Stefan slides his glass of whiskey towards her, pushing aside her glass of iced tea in the process—because she's wiped off her make-up and Stefan's coat makes her seem even smaller. Now the bartender thinks she's a baby and had refused to give her alcohol.

But her brother smirks and slyly says, "Drink up. Grumpy's not looking," he jerks his head to the side where Beca's eyes land towards the busy bartender. She doesn't even think twice as she drinks, her face twisting at the strong bitter taste—stronger than those cheap beers she's had—while Stefan chuckles. For the first time that night, Beca finally smiles.

"You'll get used it,"

She does and now they're laughing like they're high on something as they settle at some traveler's inn. Beca still thinks it's a motel none the less, only with a fancy name. There's probably drugs involved in between all the alcohol she's not sure anymore but she's happy at that moment and it's been a while since she felt that way so, whatever shit was in that cigarette he gave her isn't really important. Besides, it's nice to speak in her mother tongue again after having to constantly use English for years.

He tells her of all his plans, his illegal businesses, his connections to the black market and his clients. He doesn't hold back on sharing everything and it's always been that way between them.

"Maybe we should just rob Corvinn Castle, heard there's tons of good stuff somewhere underneath all that stone," Beca catches him saying, her head heavy and her body totally relaxed as she leans on the bed board, whiskey bottle in hand while Stefan sits across her on the chair, head facing upwards and one leg propped up as he smokes.

"There's a vault. It's real. I've seen it. Father's going to tell me how to open it soon," she admits as he rolls his head to the side, towards her direction.

"Damn, maybe I should get you back home so you can get the codes first and then we can rob Corvinn. You know, piss father off. It'll be fun," he says with a smirk and Beca looks around lazily for something.

"Or I can just give him a call, wake him up and ask for the codes right now? I'll go be like, 'Hey dad, I'm kinda' drunk. Can you tell me what the god damn code is for those three big doors underneath the castle? Can't find the bathroom here, I need to take a shit,' or something," she slurs, her eyes blinking to fight off sleep.

They pause for a few moments, silent before they both erupt into laughter

She feels much better after so many years and if that means betraying the crown then so be it. There's no place she'd rather be right now but here.

Beca's loyalty has always been her strength and her weakness. Her loyalty always tends to lie on the person she's willing to protect to the death.

 _Always and until the end_

* * *

 **Zagreb, Croatia**

 **11 years ago**

Eight year old Beca holds on to her brother's hand tightly as they walk amongst the dark room filled with lots of people and loud music. Everywhere they turn, people or better yet, ordinary non-vampire people, are looking at her. Beca is used to the attention, being the daughter of royalty and all but what she doesn't really understand is why they were there. Only that her brother had a friend he needed to visit and exchange _gifts_ with.

It wasn't even easy getting in as the large men at the front didn't want her inside. They said little girls weren't allowed and Stefan was so angry that Beca was so close to crying because everyone was fighting. She's never dealt with arguments and bad words before but nevertheless, Stefan got them inside.

They both headed downstairs, away from the blaring music and the dancing people and in front of a single door where a guy stood. He stood as scary as the ones up front but there were no arguments this time as he lets them pass without a word.

When they enter, Beca notices the bear head hanging above the wall. It was growling with its teeth bared and she didn't realize that bears can be frightening too. They've always been cute and cuddly to her.

"Sala! It's been a while. I thought you were dead," a short middle-aged man says out loud as he walks around a huge office table towards her brother. He definitely seemed like the boss of the place.

She observes quietly, finding a group of men sitting on the sofas in one corner, drinking and playing cards while the girls they're with, whose clothes looked like they ran out of fabric, sat next to them. On the center of their table, money, cigarettes and guns are present. They don't seem friendly either. By now, it's a familiar sight to her but it still doesn't bring her any comfort.

"It'll take a while to kill a soul as dark as mine," Stefan replies as drops the bags he had been carrying on to the office table, leaving only Beca's red teddy bear bag hanging on his shoulders.

It contained her water bottle, a couple of snacks and her stuffed otter which Stefan bought for her last week. She hugs it to sleep every night since then.

"Ah, and I see you've brought a little friend with you tonight," the short man says as he notices her behind him. He waves at her with his fingers clad in gold rings.

Instinctively, she hides behind her brother, gripping tightly on to the ends of his leather jacket. His smile doesn't make her comfortable at all.

She hears her brother open the bags before pushing them towards the guy.

"The newest craze from Russia. Hits you like nothing you've ever experienced before," Stefan says as the guy inspects the contents of the smaller bag and she can hear the pride in her brother's tone.

After a while the guy nods before motioning over to the burly guy next to him. The larger guy comes back after a moment to lay a brown briefcase on the table. When he opens it, Beca sees that it's filled with green paper.

U.S dollars, she's familiar with them as her family had always been making trips to America whenever her father has business there. They even have a house where they could stay temporarily because of the frequency of their trips.

"I'm also taking some of the usual," the boss guy says as he holds up what looked like some high-powered gun from the larger bag her brother had been carrying.

The deal was complete after a couple more minutes, an exchange of jokes and compliments in between and finally Stefan is carrying along the briefcase and the larger bag that now seemed much lighter than before.

He takes Beca's hand as they head towards the door after a couple of pleasantries about conducting business with each other.

But it's already a fact that things don't always end smoothly. Not when you are involved in the world Stefan Sala resides in.

"How much for her?" the boss asks suddenly and that has Stefan abruptly stopping in his tracks while Beca looks up at him in confusion.

Her brother cranes his neck to the side, "What was that?" he asks in a low tone.

"How much for the pretty little doll you got there?" the question repeats with much elaboration than before and this time Stefan turns a bit to the side, looking down at her.

His dark blue eyes settle on her own where they stay for a while.

"She doesn't come cheap," he answers after moment.

"Of course, as expected. Name your price," the guy says, rubbing his hands together as he smiles a smile that looks predatory.

Beca stays still as she continues to look up at her brother's eyes. She feels him release her hand. He tenderly touches her head down to her face where his fingers linger along her cheek.

"She's priceless," he slowly murmurs in French, words that Beca knows but doesn't exactly understand.

"What?" the guy asks in puzzlement but he wasn't given any explanation.

Instead, Stefan finally breaks away from their shared gaze to face the boss guy, "Where's the bathroom. You know how these things work. I need to _prepare_ the package," her brother tells him

The guy motions to the left and Beca finds herself inside the small bathroom. It was simple with tiles lining up the walls, a shower, a toilet and a single sink.

Stefan kneels in one knee as he places the red teddy bear bag on her shoulders while Beca looks up at him with wide anxious eyes, her small hands grabbing on to his sleeves tightly as he unzips her bag to take out a dagger. Beca had been familiar with the object. She's seen him with it all the time and soon in the future, she'd bring it with her everywhere she goes. It was Stefan's favourite weapon. He fondly calls it his _toy_ , second best only to his electric guitar which he doesn't mind Beca tinkering with.

He takes her right hand, wrapping her fingers around the dagger's handle. The metal felt cold and heavy on her palm. She hated this part all the time.

When Stefan looks at her, she quickly shakes her head, her other hand still gripping his sleeve, tugging him closer to her.

"Stepy, don't leave," she weakly says, her vision blurring as her tears threaten to spill any moment now.

He hushes her softly, almost like a lullaby.

"Beca, what did I tell you about the monsters?" he asks her and she swallows before answering in a shaky voice.

"That they look like us. They walk amongst us, lurking under the sun and because of that, we only have each other to trust," she answers promptly just as he had taught her while he nods.

"There are monsters outside the door so, stay inside and hold on to this knife tightly, do you understand?" he reminds her as she nods, tears already streaming down her face.

"I'm scared," she whimpers tearfully, refusing to let him go as he wipes her tears, hushing her once more.

A loud impatient knock is heard from outside the door and Beca's chest jumps at the sound. It makes her tears fall even harder.

"Stepy, please don't leave me," she pleads as her brother pulls her in a tight hug.

A promising whisper emitting out of his lips before standing up despite Beca's tight hold. He harshly tears her grip away from him as he takes a few steps back, ordering her to stay as he holds a gun now in his hands. All the while the incessant knocking continues, accompanied with booming voices from outside.

She's so scared, the knife shaking as she grips it tightly with both hands.

When her brother unlocks the door to open it, a deafening sound erupts and a body falls down to the ground. Beca sees the look of shock from the boss guy as he now lays down the floor before the door closes back again, covering her in the darkness of the room.

Shouts, more banging sounds and pained grunts are heard from outside. Blood seeps in from the outside and Beca steps back in horror until her bag hits the wall. She sinks down to the floor, her knees pressed near her chest as she continues to cry silently. Her eyes shut tight as if she can also shut out the scary sounds her ears can hear clearly. Sometimes, vampire hearing can be a curse.

The only thing she keeps trying to remember are the whispered promise her brother told her before walking out the door.

" _Never,"_

It takes minutes until the noise dies down all so suddenly. Silence coats the whole place except for the soft bass sounds coming from the music upstairs. Beca hears only one pair of footsteps and slowly opens her eyes as she looks up at the crack underneath the door where the light spills in. She could still see the blood, even smell the strong scent of it but most of all she sees a shadow crossing towards the door.

For a moment, her heart almost stops when she hears the door knob slowly turn. The door opens and light from outside finally bathes the room. Despite her weak legs, she jumps up and runs towards waiting arms.

"Stepy!"

Sinking in her brother's arms, Beca's whole system floods with relief. He carries her up and holds her even closer to him, his head leaning against hers. She notices his bloody face but there's no time to mend wounds and cuts. Before she knows it, Stefan is carrying her out of the room with one arm, bags and money in the other.

Beca clings to her brother as tight as she can as they slip through dancing bodies but when shouts echo from the direction where they came from, Stefan breaks into a run. There were people chasing them but they make it out of the establishment and into their car. It's black because it's Stefan's favourite colour.

It'll turn out to be her favourite colour too.

"Seatbelt," her brother says as she does as he says.

They drive into the night in an extremely dangerous speed. With Stefan's love for racing, at first Beca hadn't been used to it but as the weeks pass by, she finally learns to sleep through it. In a couple of years, Stefan would teach her how to drive in the same amount of speed and win her first ever illegal car race.

Tonight however, they aren't participating in an illegal street racing competition but it does feel like it. The only difference was the loud, sharp sounds coming from the other cars behind them. She learned that they are deadly things and once it hits you in the heart, you die.

Stefan protectively places a hand over her head, keeping her down as he turns sharply and overtakes other cars.

"Becs, gun!" he orders and she quickly does what she is taught which was opening the small compartment in front of her and carefully handing him the metal device that 'she should never play with'.

The moment Stefan gets his hands on it, the car suddenly spins around fast that Beca almost hit her head on the door of the car. The car runs backwards as her brother aims the gun at the car chasing them. He fires several times and in seconds the car loses control and skids to the side before flipping over. Their car spins back into the right track and finally they are driving further away from their enemies.

Stefan has good precision, a skill that he'd also pass on to her soon. As a matter of fact, if Beca were to be asked about how she learned twice as fast than the other kids training in Underworld she'd surely never acknowledge any of her trainers.

It's because she never really learned from any of them.

Years later from this night, Stefan Sala would secretly fly to Russia and, much to the puzzlement of her trainers, Beca's skills would miraculously accelerate for some unknown reason until she officially becomes the youngest agent under the black flag. She'd be known for her excellent aim and knife skills, even almost surpassing her superiors.

Honestly, she only has one person to thank and her father is not going to like who it was after all.

But for now, she'd be happily sitting on the back of her brother's car, feet dangling down as she eats her chocolate ice-cream. All the fears she had experienced earlier that night now long forgotten.

Stefan stands beside her, his back leaning against the car while he eats his own ice-cream. He then hands her a map and like clockwork she scrutinizes the colourful picture in all seriousness. Stefan says it was an important job and Beca is assigned to it. She hates disappointing him so she makes sure to do an excellent job at it.

When she finally decides, she points at a place on the map which she finds interesting and shows it to her brother. Stefan smiles, nodding as he folds the map.

"Hong Kong, bigger playground with even bigger players and they have Disney Land too. Smart girl," he praises her, ruffling her hair softly as she grins at him, proud of her choice.

"Now where would I be without you?" her brother says. "I don't need those dumb ride or die chicks when I have my lucky charm here with me. You're all I need…" he says fondly as he lifts up her chin.

Beca had always looked at her brother with adoration. If Chloe had been her sun, wrapping her safely in all its glory and warmth, Stefan to her was like the stars. The ones that would scatter beautifully across the night sky and help her find her way back home. And for so long, home to Beca was a hand outstretched towards her, waiting for her to hold on to and sink into.

As for what she is to Stefan…

They finally head out to seek a place to stay before the sun rises. For the past few weeks ever since they started travelling, Beca had slept in countless hotel rooms, some expensive and some cheap. But for as long as she gets to curl up next to her brother's side, the place doesn't matter.

Every dawn, just before the sun peeks out in the sky, Stefan kisses her gently on the top of her head, stroking her hair softly as he whispers lovingly,

"Good night, _my universe_ ,"

 _Always and until the end_

* * *

 **Pristina, Kosovo**

 **3 years ago**

"Got two," Beca mutters after two bodies fall down the ground, bullets coming straight from her gun.

"Three," Stefan follows quickly as they both take cover behind some huge tanks that were once used for chemicals of some sort. With the council's soldiers hot on their heels, they escape off into some abandoned factory, hoping to even out the odds.

"Keep up, lovey," Stefan quips as gun shots continue to fire towards them.

Exhaling in frustration, Beca aims and fires back an answer, taking three down before facing her brother.

"Five and I have a hangover," she answers, an eyebrow raised as a challenge which he replies with a smirk.

"Just five?"

Beca almost growls as they continue running out and around the factory, heading towards Stefan's getaway car. He has smartly planted escape vehicles around the city and she's pretty sure everyone who knew her brother, knew that Stefan sitting behind the wheel would mean that catching him in one would be bleak.

It was supposed to be a smooth escape. But when they reach the car with Stefan heading over to driver seat, Beca hears a clicking sound that quickly fills her up with dread. Stefan hears it too as he fires towards incoming Underworld agents holding up weapons that Beca recognized as Rippers.

From the name, it isn't hard to guess what kind of weapon it was and what kind of damage it would do.

Rippers, are known in the Underworld as two circular objects the size of an average person's face with jagged razor sharp edges stacked together as they spin in opposite directions. It is mainly used against rogue or criminal werewolves in their wolf form where their skin becomes too thick for ordinary bullets or knives to penetrate.

Unfortunately, this deadly weapon is now being used on them. The council seems to be desperate on catching Stefan and 'rescuing Darius Du Pont's only daughter' thus, the appearance of the special soldiers from the black flag.

If only they knew whose side she was leaning to and that rescuing is not needed.

In Beca's eyes, time slows down drastically. Her brother keeps firing until he runs out of bullets. He was in the open and she knew it was a bad spot to be. Two Rippers are fired.

The scene before her has an obvious ending.

Stefan was fast with half his genetics being vampire but his other human half doesn't make him as fast as Beca.

She kicks her heels against the ground emitting a sudden burst of speed and in seconds she's on the other side pushing her brother out of harm's way.

The noise dies and all she hears is silence. A ripper zings behind her passing her by an inch and it's so fast that she feels the swift gust of wind on her neck. Stefan starts falling down the ground, his wide eyes looking at her, filled with shock and disbelief.

Then everything suddenly turns back to normal and the moment it does, Beca feels a force hitting her. In seconds she feels a strong excruciating pain on her arm, just below her shoulder. Sharp jagged blades ripping through, flesh, muscle and even going deep enough to scrape through bone.

The impact was so strong that her body twists to the side as she falls backwards, landing heavily on her back. When it all settles in, that's when she feels the intensity of the pain. She cries out sharply.

It feels like she lost an arm, the pain travelling all over her body and making her see spots. It was extremely painful and it was the worst she's ever felt.

Beside her, Stefan finally loads his gun with a click and then he's shooting furiously at their attackers before turning to her. He holds on to her good arm, pulling her up quickly but this creates another wave of unbearable pain that she cries out again.

She crashes in the backseat as he drives like a mad man. Her body starts to shiver from too much pain, blood flowing down freely from her wound.

Vampires can lose limbs too. Especially when they aren't being treated immediately or if said limbs are intentionally severed. Beca is close to losing her arm.

The symphonies in her head are getting louder again with her eyes starting to flutter close. She could feel being carried in Stefan's arms as he heads up a flight of stairs, all the while trying to keep her awake with every shake and shout.

Her vision clouds a little and in the haze she could see a flash of red, long red locks falling from above her, cascading down and tickling her face as she lays down on what smells like grass. There's a gentle wind blowing around them and behind all the tangles of red, she could see the weeping willows' leaves swaying softly. There's a smile hidden underneath those locks, bright and beautiful while a pair of baby blue eyes hold her weary gaze. They sparkle so brightly, as bright as she remembered them to be.

"Becs!"

There's a shake and she feels the pain. Reality comes crashing back as red locks, baby blue eyes and infectious smiles disappear at the back of her head.

There are other people tending to her while Stefan remains right next to her, holding her hand. She feels them cutting on the sleeve of her jacket and shirt. Stefan glances over at the damage before looking right back at her. She must look as white as snow by now.

"Just a scratch, nothing serious. You'll be fine. Trust me," her brother tells her although he seemed to be convincing himself rather than her.

He touches her head lightly, his thumb brushing over her forehead.

"I'll kill them all," he promises lowly before being handed a dagger, his favourite one.

She wants to stop him, yell even, but she didn't have the strength to do so while he starts rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. He doesn't even hesitate as he starts slicing his own flesh, right in his inner arm where dark red blood oozes out of the wound immediately.

He offers his arm towards her, "Drink," he says.

The smell of blood makes her hungry as her irises turn red and she suddenly feels a deep thirst. She sucks in as much of the delicious liquid as she can.

Her brother must've thought it was her first time drinking from a warm body which was why he made the cut in order to push her to drink.

If only he knew how her sharp fangs sunk into soft flesh years ago.

The memory makes her stop drinking, turning her head away and finally speaking.

"It won't work. I won't heal. Not like this," she blurts out with much difficulty as her brother looks at her with a frown.

"You need blood! It's what heals you and stops the bleeding. If we don't do it now, you're going to stay stuck in a limbo between life and death for a week before you start healing up," he counters, trying to press his arm back against her lips but she refuses.

One look at her wound and Beca knows her brother is smart enough to know the reason.

"The bleeding isn't stopping. You're not healing, Becs," he says slowly as the realization dawns on him. She can hear him exhale heavily and the chair he was sitting on creaks as he shifts his weight.

A moment of complete silence passes by and finally he speaks again.

"Who is it?"

Beca can hear the frustration in his tone, the anger building from inside him rising in dangerous levels. She knows him so well.

Which is why she chose to remain silent.

"Who," he starts again, standing up as he rubs his face with his hand. "Who did you bind your soul to?" he breathes out, unable to face her.

The name lingers at the tip of her tongue but she doesn't spill it. She hasn't spoken that name since her and Thomas Vanderbilt's stand-off months ago at the 345th Annual Royal International Military Exercises.

But Stefan was smart and he knows her well. It was so easy to put two and two together. There weren't many people in her life after all and there aren't any secrets between them.

"Where is she?" he asks in a foreboding tone this time and Beca weakly shakes her head.

This triggers him and soon the lampshade next to the bed is harshly thrown against the wall. Stefan inhales and exhales again, his hands resting on his hips as he tries to calm himself down.

"We'll talk about this later," he finally says before turning to his men and motioning over to her.

There's a flurry of movement everywhere and Beca already seems to have an idea of what's to come.

Her brother kneels down next to her at the side of the bed, his hand covering hers.

When she looks at him, his eyes have softened, "She better be worth all this pain. We're going old school," he says in almost a whisper and before Beca could reply another wave of excruciating pain grows from her arm.

Her brother holds her down as they start manually repairing the wound. The pain makes her scream and want to kill someone. A couple more men try to hold her feet down as she starts thrashing. It takes over fifteen minutes of hell until she finally blacks out.

The image of fireflies, trees and the smell of chocolate chip cookies wrapped in a comfortable warmth invades her dreams.

 _Becs? Can you hear me? Please—"_

Beca wakes up with a start, sweat covering her back and neck. She feels the pain in her arm but it isn't as bad as it was before. It felt like hours but she's guessing it's already been a couple of days. Her throat is as dry as the dessert and she stinks.

When she looks around, she pauses when her eyes land on her brother's. She sighs in relief at the sight of him sitting casually on the chair at the side of her bed, whiskey bottle in hand.

He helps her sit up, leaning comfortably at the bed board before handing her a glass of water. Her face twists in discomfort at the contact of water on her dry throat yet she finishes it in seconds and has him refilling it once more before she is completely satisfied.

When she meets his gaze again however, Beca wishes she had remained unconscious a bit longer. She's familiar with that look he's sporting and it's definitely held with questions she really doesn't want to answer right now.

However, she also knows that there is no escaping this. She's also aware of how Stefan's mind works so she gets straight to the point.

"She stays out of this," she bluntly says, staring at him right in the eye as he takes a sip of his drink.

He replies with a sarcastic chuckle, eyes looking elsewhere as he shakes his head. He stops for a moment, still silent before looking up to meet her in the eye.

"You really think," he slowly begins, taking his time with his words. "That you can just make your soul mate 'stay out of this'? That she's not going to be part of this fucked up world you and I are in? That she even has a choice?" the anger in his voice rising with every word he spits out at her.

Beca exhales heavily as she counters, "It's not—we're not 'soul mates'. It's more of a friendship thing. I know it's a mistake, a stupid little ritual underneath a tree that we did when we were kids! But it happened and I don't know what to do about it,"

He scoffs at her words, his body turning and straightening up to face her fully.

"A stupid little ritual, huh?" he shakes his head again. "You think that you can just bind your soul to someone you like and that's it?" he asks sharply, lifting the hand which held his whiskey bottle to point towards the door.

"If that's the case then my mother would've been Queen and you wouldn't have been born,"

His strong words stun her. She didn't know about that. All he really told her was that their father left his mother when she got pregnant. That Darius had just been a reckless teenager who hadn't understood the concept of responsibility and believed that money was the solution to everything. The money which helped Stefan and his mother live a simple yet comfortable life.

The awkward silence stretches between them until Stefan breaks it, his voice much calmer now, "That's the reason why I can't completely be mad at him. He gave me a sister,"

He slowly reaches out to her, the familiar gesture making her chest tighten. She wraps her hand around his. When he stands up, he plants a kiss on top of her head before heading for the door.

"I meant what I said," she suddenly blurts out, making him stop to turn back at her. "She doesn't get involved in this,"

There's conflict in her brother's features and she already knows what he is about to say even before he opens his lips, "I warned you about this. Your enemies will always go after the one thing you care about the most. Soul mate or not, you've gained a weakness. Now they have a weapon they can use to end you,"

His words only bring something akin to fear but she pushes the thought away because she doesn't understand why she feels that way. It was just that, a mistake.

But then, she knew that if Stefan were to fix said mistake the way he _fixes_ all of his mistakes, Beca knows that she has to step in.

After all, eliminating her mistake would be too much.

"Please," she says softly, the most vulnerable she has ever let herself be. "She will remain unharmed,"

Stefan sighs and she knows that he doesn't agree with her.

"She's not to be touched. Promise me that," she presses on and this time she could tell that he had lost the will to argue.

"She won't but I can't promise anything," he says dejectedly but not with a final word in it, "Because if it goes down to me choosing between you and her then I'm sorry but she has to go,"

It wasn't entirely how she wanted it to play out but that's good enough. Besides, there's just no way that the soul she was intertwined to would ever want to be a part of her world again.

She could never be a part of Chloe Beale's world either, even if she wanted to.

With the life she has chosen, Beca knows that anytime death could claim her and that what they had would only be memories of the past.

She thinks that the conversation is over and hopes that the issue would never to be spoken of again when Stefan pauses once more.

"Paired souls can't be apart for so long," he says.

There's no question in it but Beca could feel it. She knows what he is trying to get at and with him, evading the question would never help. He'd find out eventually.

So she finally admits the truth, "Father takes business trips. I come with him until I'm old enough to fly on my own. Once a month would do or at least whenever I can. I just need to be near her and it curbs the…" she trails off because the word hanging at the tip of her tongue is something she didn't realize she felt.

 _Longing_

"…the need to recharge,"

Life is so unpredictable sometimes and these words are words Beca would regret. The mistake would soon become something precious and the weakness will turn into the very thing she takes her strength from.

But life is unpredictable and sometimes it throws things at you that is almost too much to handle.

Like accidentally finding the missing camera footage of the night her mother died.

Like realizing that she had been living in denial all this time.

Like figuring out that the monsters she'd been warned about was right in front of her all along.

The monster whom she loved so dearly.

So she does the one thing every person does when filled with too much pain.

Destroy everything.

She hacks through bodies, ripping and tearing everything that breathes her way until she makes it down the basement where she knows he is at. She's a mess, blood dripping from her face down to the blade she is holding. But she couldn't stop it. Even if the bodies turned out to be young teens, Stefan has trained to be loyal to him.

"You killed her," she says, her voice hollow.

Stefan stands in front of her, his weapon on the ground where he willingly dropped it while she points her blade at him. Blood flows down from his face where she had slashed him out of blind rage.

"I never wanted her to die," he answers softly and that's enough to make her bring him down to his knees, blade now pressed to his neck as she looks down at him with anger.

"How could you do this to me?" she asks shakily, tears bursting from the corner of her eyes as they slowly make their way down her cheeks.

"She wasn't even part of the plan. You were. I meant to take you away from him, our father, because I couldn't kill you. I tried that too many times ever since you were born so our father would know what it's like to lose a loved one," he confesses.

"It was supposed to be easy. A little baby had no chance with a knife buried in her little chest but then when you opened your eyes and looked at me. Your little hands came up to reach out to me and I realized that I couldn't do it. So I watched you grow instead, waiting for the right time but turns out, killing you would become impossible. How could you possibly kill someone you love?" he looks up at her with reverence and it only hurts.

But she knows he is right and she ends up sinking down in a corner, her heart now a mess.

Being betrayed by the people she loves seems to be the only constant thing in her life and Beca hates that she had succumbed to the same predicament yet again.

Once had already been unbearable. Twice is enough to end her.

She lost Chloe and now she's about to lose Stefan.

What a twisted and cruel life she has indeed.

"Your mother's death haunts me and it will haunt me for the rest of my life. It's karma that you are growing to become the spitting the image of her except for your eyes. Your mother's eyes were brown," he says before his face hardens and his eyes turn cold.

"I should have just killed that Vanderbilt girl instead. I knew she was bad news from the moment you couldn't stop talking so fondly about her,"

He doesn't even get to add more to that as Beca is up on her feet in a flash, pushing him up against the wall with the blade hovering above his chest, the anger rising up inside her once more.

It doesn't stop him though.

"She's going to be your downfall. It would've been easier, sinking a blade right into her heart as I watch the life drain out of her eye—"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence as the dagger abruptly plunges right through his chest. It's only a few seconds later that Beca realizes what she had done. The horror of what she did comes crashing in her and she pulls out the blade as quick as it came before pressing the wound with her hand, blood spilling out of her fingers.

Stefan's hand covers hers as he slowly slips down the floor. She holds him steady, the anger in her eyes now replaced with fear and panic.

"I knew it," he weakly says with a small smile as she presses the same blade against her own wrist.

"I know you hate the taste you but you need to drink," she hastily says. "It'll heal you,"

However, he calmly keeps going with his line of thought even as she fumbles to save him, "You do love her. Hiding things from me won't work, you know that,"

"Drink, Stepy!"she yells in desperation, pressing her wounded wrist towards his lips.

He finally obliges much to her relief even as he grimaces and moves his face away. Stefan doesn't drink blood and that's because of his human side. It still helps him heal though and that's all Beca cares about right now. It's easier to focus on that rather than the conclusion he had given her.

She believes that he was wrong.

And maybe deep down she's trying to convince herself that.

"You love her so much that you're willing to hurt me to protect her but," he continues, tiredly leaning his head against hers.

"Not enough to kill me. And that's all I needed to know,"

His words will bother her for the next few years until she finally realizes that he probably knew of it all along, how the end would look like.

But for now, her father's soldiers would soon barge in minutes later to find her leaning against the wall facing the door, alone. She'd tell them where he went, a secret door leading to an alley a couple of blocks away, but she also knows that it's useless because he'd be long gone by now.

In the next few years, Beca would be leading her own team with only one mission and that is to capture Stefan Sala alive.

Ironically, she'd be fighting against the person she swore loyalty to. Maybe it's no surprise how many times she'd fail in doing so.

 _Always and until the end_

* * *

 **The outskirts of Bartholomew Cross**

 **A couple of months ago**

"Go. Go home, Chloe. That's an order. My final order. When you return to safety, our blood contract will end. You're free,"

Beca closes her eyes as she leans her head back, exhausted both physically and mentally. She could still hear the loud beating of the half of her heart and she feels her own chest tightening at the pain of being forcibly torn apart from the person whom she's so deeply connected.

It was already hard to watch tears fall down the eyes that had always been so bright and full of life. Beca's not supposed to feel that way but her heart cannot be stopped.

The sound of a chair scrapping along the cement floor brings her to open her eyes again before tiredly facing the man sitting in front of her.

Her brother sat casually opposite her as he pulls the table filled with torture tools closer in order to place two glasses on top of it. He then opens a bottle of whiskey to pour it on each glass.

It painfully reminds her of that time they got drunk at some bar years ago.

She watches him for a while until she feels the chains on her wrist loosen and a glass of whiskey being offered in front of her. She takes it without a word although her weak fingers almost drop it for a second there if it weren't for her brother's hand tightening around hers.

When he leans back on his chair again, Stefan inhales sharply and crosses his legs as his eyes bore down on her. There's a smile in them and Beca already knows how this 'talk' is going to go.

So she beats him to it, "What the hell do you _really_ want?" she mutters before taking a sip.

"She's very beautiful," Stefan deflects instead and his words instantly make her look at him in anger. He smirks, "Especially those perfect bright blue eyes,"

When she doesn't budge, he raises up his hands in mock surrender at her deadly gaze, "I just wanted to meet the woman who can easily render you powerless,"

Instead of an answer, Beca raises her glass unsteadily towards her lips to take a sip. She's really exhausted and will probably collapse any moment now.

"She can be yours if you just make a move. All you have to do is kick away that Vanderbilt heir she's dating. Bird face doesn't deserve her and we both know how easy it is for you to take him out of the equation for good,"

When Beca's eyes pierce right back at him, Stefan easily defends his answer.

"Your princess doesn't have a bond with Heckle and Jeckle's long lost brother. They're not going to last and if they do, she'll be miserable for the rest of her life," Stefan tells her with a tone much serious than before.

Beca doesn't believe in his words or that the bond she shared with the Vanderbilt princess is that of the infamous soul mate bond. Chloe is not hers. It's impossible and it'll never happen.

"I told you to keep her out of this," she bites back, ignoring his words. Unfortunately for her, it just irritated her to find amusement in his eyes. It's like having an argument with herself.

Growing up close, it's inevitable that their mannerisms, their personality, their views in life, their dark humour, sarcasm, vices, tattoos, hobbies and addictions, they share all of it that they could certainly beat twin siblings when it comes to mental telepathy.

"And she will," Stefan assures her. "When we take over the council and of Corvinn then you can have Chloe Beale as your Queen," he simply adds as if it was such an easy act to achieve.

It's absurd.

However, one word sticks out and Beca isn't even sure if she heard it correctly.

"We?" she repeats, letting out a dry laugh. "There's no 'we' in this scenario, Stefan. Or do you want me to remind you why that happened to be so?"

Her brother swirls his glass slowly as he eyes her with the same level of amusement as one would have while observing a kitten playing a ball of yarn.

"Are you telling me that you're going to stop me?" he asks before taking a sip of his whiskey. He looks at her in a much softer expression before he speaks just as softly.

"Are you ready to kill me now?"

The question rattles her with the memories she doesn't want to recall and yet she tries not to let the conflict show. It's useless though. He can easily see right through her.

This time, Stefan stands up. He turns around with his back facing her and somehow this worries her because she knows him as much as he knows her. He is acting strange and she can tell that there's something he is carrying. He might be labelled the villain but he was still her brother.

The brother she loves and when Beca loves someone it is forever.

It's her biggest weakness after all.

"Why… are you suddenly interested with Corvinn? And please, stop giving me those bullshit lies you told me earlier. You said Chloe can be my Queen which means you still want _me_ to wear that crown. You never had any intention of taking it because you've always hated royalty but not this much. What the hell are you really trying to do?"

Her brother remains silent and Beca knows she's asking the right questions so she pushes some more.

"Stepy,"

The nickname is enough to break through him as he turns back towards her and she couldn't help but feel that maybe what he was about to tell her was something that she wasn't prepared to know.

She was right.

The explanation came in a form of a small black and white photo that Beca had rarely seen in real life but was familiar with.

An ultrasound photo.

She looks up at him, the question already evident in her face and thankfully her brother speaks before she can say anything dumb, "It's a boy," he says before swallowing thickly.

"You're going to have a nephew,"

The words make her whole world stop as she glances back down at the wrinkled photo in her hand. Her mind races to a million more questions until her brain finally taps into a memory three years ago. It's a name to be exact, a fleeting conversation or more likely a small banter between them.

"Mia, is it her?" she asks weakly and it only takes one look to confirm it.

The girl whom her brother has had an on and off relationship with for years, Mia Black, also half-vampire, half-human or half-lings as pure vampires would call it. They met at the military camp where they both underwent training. Both not wanting to be there that they decided to escape the program and live the dark life half-lings have no choice but to enter in order to survive.

The council always makes sure to have a record of every vampire and half-ling. Half-lings have it worse than pure vampires because they easily blend with humans. They cannot turn a human into a vampire yet they can produce half-ling children, a fact that the council is trying to control. Vampire bloodlines must remain within the community and the spread of half-lings is something that they fear of happening. It would be hard to document their existence and would mean the loss of total control over their kind.

Beca calls the council's plans bullshit.

This changes everything and she knows that in the end she has to choose. But then why choose when she can find a much better solution?

"It doesn't have to be this way," she slowly says, eyes still staring right at the photograph before finally breaking away to look up at him. "You don't have to do this. The crown will fall on my head now that…"

She trails off because sadly there's one more issue to be addressed.

"He stabbed himself at the heart before I could stop him," he says as he takes the photo from her, unable to meet her in the eye.

"We both know he was heading there," Beca admits and they share a look, one that says that what had happened was sad but it wasn't surprising.

For the past few years, their father was secretly in the worst stages of depression. The effect of losing a soul mate causes such things to happen. It's like cancer but with the act of suicide as the terminal stage and no chemotherapy can cure it. Darius has survived far longer than the usual and that's only because he was the King. It meant that all eyes were always on him, hindering him from causing harm to himself. Even Beca had experienced having to wrestle a weapon out of his hands several times before he can inflict self-harm.

It only delayed the inevitable though.

The incident that Stefan caused had been his ticket to _freedom_ or at least that must've been how it feels like.

Vampires that had lost their mates have been known to undergo intense grief which becomes more and more unbearable as the years pass after the separation. However, there are still some that are lucky enough to pass through the tough years successfully and are likely to find a new mate.

Their father wasn't one of them.

"I had his body be brought to his room for the mean time. After this is over, we can hold a burial," Stefan tells her in an uncomfortable tone and Beca knows he is struggling.

From the start, they never had a good father and son relationship with Stefan choosing to leave and discard the opportunities Darius was offering him, to become the most decorated soldier and be assigned to the royal army dedicated in protecting the crowned heir. It wasn't Stefan's dream however and Darius wasn't exactly having it. Beca had unfortunately been witness to some of their arguments.

Robbyn's death had worsened that strain and Beca knows that their father had not forgiven Stefan for it, that even if their father were alive, there will never be a chance of forgiveness happening even if Stefan sincerely begged for it.

But despite the unfortunate fact, Beca doesn't let go of the main topic at hand, "I can fix this. This child… your son, will be protected. He has the blood of a Du Pont and I swear upon my life to keep him safe," she says firmly but Stefan shakes his head.

"It's going to be the same all over again," he resigns, looking away and Beca's heart sinks at the thought because even if she denies it, even if she tries to fight for it, there's still truth to his words.

"They will find out. They will take him and put him in some cage where they can watch over him like some lab rat," he says with such bitterness and hurt.

"They will train him and use his abilities to protect the crown until he dies… just like what they did to me, only I had it better than the others because my father was the king. I had a house to live in, cars, money and all that but my future was set on stone. There is no freedom, no choice, none of that," he continues, stepping further from her and towards the door before stopping.

"You will be able to protect him but for how long, Becs? You can't be Queen forever and what do you suggest happens if he finally has his own children? More half-lings, then what? The cycle continues even as we leave this world. It'll never change and that's why this is the only answer," he says, voice unwavering even as Beca can hear the cracks in it.

When he fully faces her, Beca is assaulted with the memory of him standing by her window when she was eight.

"Where is your loyalty, Beca? Those ignorant pure bloods who thirst for control and want to destroy your family? Or are you going to fight beside me, your own brother? Choose now because _we_ don't have time,"

With that, he looks at her right at the eye and offers his hand towards her.

 _Always and until the end_

* * *

 **Corvinn Castle, Romania**

 **A couple of months ago**

Beca wakes up to the light shake she feels on her shoulder. She had passed out due to exhaustion and lack of sleep. When her eyes adjust to her surroundings, she recognizes the walls of Corvinn and one of the guest bedrooms for visiting ambassadors. When she looks up, she finds her brother looking down at her.

Carefully sitting up, she runs her fingers through her hair and figures that she really needs a warm bath but when she smells something delicious wafting from the plate Stefan is handing over to her, she feels like good food would do for the moment.

"Everything is in place. You were right about the switch and the route we should take. They were at the airport. Some of the original council is now held hostage at the throne room but I am sure that they may have re-assembled a new one and that's why the assholes outside are plotting a rescue operation," Stefan reports to her in a lazy tone as he takes another sip from his whiskey. "For them and for you," he finishes as he eyes her.

"We have to move," Beca suddenly says as she pauses from eating and stands up, her wounds now closed and healing. They weren't really that deep to begin with. Her brother made sure of it.

Stefan nods before walking out of the room. Beca places her plate aside and follows him into Corvinn's control room where his computer technicians are now camping out with their laptops and devices.

Beca scans every monitor like a hawk. She knows the protocol for these kinds of situations. It would only mean that at this point, they will bring everything they got on them. But then if you're up against Beca Mitchell herself, the odds will never be on her opponent's favour. Strategy and wit has always been her best qualities.

Suddenly she looks up the ceiling. "Rooftop," she says as Stefan glances at her, already getting what she's trying to warn him.

"Reload every weapon you have, they'll be coming in from above as well," Stefan barks at his commanders who start handing over high powered weapons to each other and relaying orders on to their radios.

Stefan hands over the controls and Beca begins to state every possible entry point at the monitors and plots out a defensive strategy that would be hard to break.

When her brother turns to her, there's urgency on his eyes, "It's time, we have to go," he tells her in a calmer tone as she nods distractedly, eyes still on the monitors where the council's soldiers are starting to make their way to the castle's entrance.

"Wait," Beca abruptly says as she holds up her hand. She watches carefully before finally speaking once more.

"Be ready to cut off the power starting with the throne room," she orders the technicians as she watches a military van stopping in front of the huge two door main entry way.

"In three, two, one… Now!" she says quickly as they intercept the signals going out to the council's screens, the live feed from the cameras start turning off one by one just as she had wanted. The council's technicians must be losing their minds at this very moment.

Three more cameras from various rooms shut down before the rest follow. Now the council has no visual and Beca can finally walk out confidently with her brother towards the throne room.

A report from the control room comes in and Stefan looks at her for confirmation.

"Open fire at sight," was the only thing she coldly orders which he then relays to his men.

In a minute they reach the vaults with Beca opening the first two heavy stone gates easily. When they reach the final gate however, her fingers suddenly stay still. Stefan notices the change and is on her side in a second.

"What's wrong?" he asks yet Beca doesn't look at him, her gaze still lingering at the small screen that can open the last gate in front of her. She remains quiet for a couple more seconds before finally clearing her throat to speak.

It comes out weak and uncertain but audible nonetheless, "Are we doing the right thing? Is changing the documented rules and wiping the council along with its heirs going to solve everything? Or are we just continuing this terrible cycle and making it even worse?"

Her hands are shaking now and her heart thumping really hard in her chest. Her words are creating a new and huge gap between them, marking this the first time she has openly opposed to him.

"Is that your true choice?" Stefan says after a couple of tense moments, both their eyes locking with each other, dark blue against dark blue. Beca almost feels as if she is looking at another version of her.

"It's just going to open a new breed of hate and suffering. If we have to end it, let's end this right!" she says, more loudly this time and the gap widens even more as her brother takes a step back, drifting further from her. The pain in both their eyes as clear as the cleanest waters.

"Nothing is ever right in this world," Stefan says and his voice seems so far away.

He shakes his head sadly, "I thought this day would never happen but here it is," he trails off and Beca understands it all.

The bitter end.

They remain still and the silence is so tense as they stand opposite each other. This wasn't like one of those catch and retrieve operations she did in order to capture her brother. Admittedly, she always misses her mark with him around. She always fails when it comes to him because deep down being enemies was never what they both wanted. They've clashed countless times but it was only right this second that everything seems so real now.

In a second everything becomes a blur, Stefan had reached out for his dagger while Beca had tapped on her boots, setting off the miniature bomb's timer she has carried all this time. An agent should never be without a weapon and Beca has taken this reminder very seriously.

Chaos ensues, blood spills in her rage, the bomb explodes as she ducks behind a wall for cover and Stefan makes his escape. She manages to open back some of the camera's live feed having memorized the access codes earlier and assemble all her generals. It's insane to think that every step starting from the beginning had been run by her. She had manipulated the whole game from the start and now, who else but herself is going to finish it?

The war has begun and she feels like she's being torn to pieces with every step she makes to close the gap between her and Stefan.

Everything is falling apart now and yet she was still denying this fact.

She finally finds him on the floor just below the rooftop, sitting with his back against the tiles made of centuries' old stone, a remote device slowly being played with his fingers.

They're alone now.

He looks up at her and Beca knows that he's as tired as she is. Maybe not entirely physically but more emotionally drained. They've been playing this game for far too long now.

"Well played," he mumbles with a weak smile.

"You taught me well," she honestly answers back in the same way. In a distance she can hear the ongoing fights, a contrast to the silence of the floor they are in.

"I'm proud… of you," he follows and her eyes begin to sting a bit. It meant a lot coming from him.

She cautiously steps forward and slowly raises her arm up towards him. It only occurred to her that not once in her life had she initiated it. It was always Stefan who sought out her hand.

"Let me help you. I'll do everything to make this right. Trust me, I'll make it happen. Please, just come with me. You're my brother and I will always be there for you. No matter what happens, that won't ever change," she sincerely says as his eyes fall on her hand then back up at her face.

"I trust you with my whole life. I trust you so much because I love you," Stefan admits softly and it breaks her heart to see him like this, vulnerable and broken, so she inches closer, palm open and outstretched towards him.

He takes it and relief washes over her as she pulls him and crashes into his arms, a sob breaking in her throat. She hugs him tighter, letting him know through the sincere gesture that she has forgiven him.

"You're the only one I really loved in this world. I lied earlier about what I said about this world because there was one thing that is right in it and that is you," he whispers against her hair but there was sadness to his tone and Beca's chest suddenly floods with fear for the next words he is about to say.

She can feel it and she dreads hearing it out loud.

"I'll do anything for you, anything… except for this,"

She shakes her head miserably because she's too late.

Stefan continues to hold her tightly in his arms, "There's a chopper waiting on the rooftop. It's for you,"

"No, I'm not—"

"You can't save me. I'm far too gone. I can't turn back now. I'm sorry, lovey,"

Tears blur her vision and the pain in her chest becomes so loud it's almost deafening. This was goodbye, the end and the last time she was going to hold him in her arms.

This was it.

"Please don't do this," she pleads sorrowfully in between the choking sobs, her fingers digging on to the fabric of his coat while she feels him plant a kiss on top of her head.

"Not you. I can't lose you," she desperately clings to him. "I've lost too much. I'm not letting you do this,"

Stefan looks down on her, touching her face the same way he did when she was young and afraid of being left behind the door. His thumb softly brushes her tears.

"I can make it right. I'll make it right," she repeats like a broken record but Stefan shakes his head.

"Not everything can be fixed,"

The words shatter her into pieces and Beca almost forgot just how powerful a set of letters combined together were until now.

"And not everything that is broken is irreparable. Always remember that, Becs,"

He begins to pull away but Beca doesn't let go, strong in the belief that she can still find a solution for this. His words haven't sunk in and it will take a couple more months until they finally do.

"You promised me you wouldn't leave me. Don't leave me," she begs, ready to fall down her knees if need it be.

"Never. I'll always be with you… always. Right here," he says as he motions over to her heart.

"We will see each other again, in time. I'm sure of that,"

But she wasn't having it. "No! I need you here! I need you now! I need you!" she screams out before breaking down miserably.

"I don't have anybody else but you,"

This time, it's Stefan who shakes his head.

"You know that's not true,"

Beca doesn't understand. She'd been on her own all her life. The people who come into her world have always left her in the end. They leave her lost and left alone to reel from the pain of separation. It always ends that way.

But not Stefan. He was constant even though he brought her pain and suffering. He was the only person who had remained permanent in her life. She could watch the whole world burn and still not give a damn because she has him. He is her brother, her best friend, her mentor, her partner in crime and her family. Their relationship was twisted and maybe even unhealthy but he is everything to her.

To lose all that with just a press of a button?

It's the end.

Stefan gives her a small smile, "She'll stay,"

Beca gets confused at his words, wondering what he meant by that until he finally says her name.

"Chloe. She's the one. She'll stay. I have a feeling that she'll be able to do it, the one thing I failed at… to be with you always and until the end,"

She freezes at his words and when she tries to protest he quickly beats her to it.

"Don't let her go because I'm sure she won't,"

He finally pulls away, creating distance between them. He digs through his pocket but to his obvious surprise, his detonator isn't to be found inside it. Instead, he finds it in between her fingers.

"I won't let it happen. You're going to watch your son grow up. You're going to witness the change that I will fight so hard for. You're going to see the day where all of this will just be some bad memory of the past. You're going to grow old and have me call you grandpa as your hair starts to go white. You're going to have to ban me from taking my nephew out for excessive amounts of candy and ice-cream every Christmas or his birthday," she says with so much certainty that she strongly believes that it'll all happen one day.

Stefan sighs heavily in reply, looking down the ground before finally making a decision. He takes out his dagger and Beca's chest clenches at how things are about to go.

"There's only one way this could end," Stefan begins and Beca takes a step back, gripping the remote device tightly. "There's only one way to make me stop because I'm going to keep going until… you end it,"

He takes a swing at her as she jumps back, dodging his attacks. She knows he is pushing her to do it, the one thing she can never do.

Kill him.

He goes for a much aggressive attack despite her hesitation and as painful as it was, she knows that innocent lives are at stake. It's all in her hands now.

It's the only way.

The reaction is natural as she collides against him, bringing him down the ground as they wrestle for the detonator. She takes a punch and throws back more as they fight for dominance.

She's learned everything from him that their moves were so similar. Their attacks are met equally that it's like watching a closely tied match. It's very hard to tell who will come out standing in the end.

"You want to go and die?" Beca says angrily through gritted teeth as Stefan grabs her from behind.

"Then let's go and die," she continues, her mind already set.

Her eyes flit over to the camera hovering above them and hopes that it wasn't one of the cameras that she had opened back up. Her thoughts drifting into baby blue eyes and soft, shiny red hair before she closes her eyes and…

…dies.

Her last words, drifting through the air along with her tears.

"Together, always and until the end,"

* * *

 **Neuilly-sur-Seine, France**

 **A couple of months ago**

"What are you drawing, Beca?"

"A dragon,"

"Still fascinated with them, I see,"

"I don't really have to be here. I said I'm fine and I have a lot of paperwork to finish so, can we just get on with this mental mumbo madness,"

"I just want to know how you're doing after the incident at Corvinn. Alright, I'll get to the point then, is it the same dragon you befriended as a child?"

"Maybe and I'm not gripped by trauma or shock. This is really unnecessary,"

"If so, this little chat won't take long then, your highness. How's your dragon friend?"

"Is this a joke? And again, call me Beca,"

"No, it's an innocent question and my apologies, Beca,"

"He flew away,"

"Is he coming back?"

"No,"

"You seem so sure of that,"

"I am,"

"Do you miss him?"

"Should I… repeat the question, Beca?"

"I miss him,"

"It's understandable but have you ever thought of finding a new dragon friend?"

"I… don't want to,"

"But?"

"What does that mean?"

"It means that there's a 'but' in between all of this and it's bothering you,"

"The only thing that is bothering me is an idiot who keeps following me around,"

"An idiot dragon?"

"Not a dragon, just an idiot,"

"Why don't let him in then? Are you scared?"

"Of what? And the idiot is a… her,"

"Of letting _her_ in because she might just… fly away too,"

"Maybe,"

"But what if this _idiot_ is finally going to be the one to stay?"

"Don't you think it's time you retire? Isn't it tiring to listen to problematic people for more than eleven years? Sip some blood by the beach, relax and enjoy or something,"

"I've actually already contemplated on it these past few weeks,"

"Great, send me a post card when you get there. We're done here, right? I have a meeting in half an hour,"

"Yes we are—oh and Beca?"

"What?"

"I hope that you won't let fear dictate your life. You deserve to be happy too. Have a good night, your highness,"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Guess who's back and finally finished this long ass chapter?

God, this really is the longest chapter I've ever done. And just when you thought Beca's story can't even be more depressing. So, what would Chloe think of all this? Is Stefan right about her staying? Hmmm... give me two more weeks and you'll find out because I'm so in demand that people just can't get enough of the red panda charm (forgive the no sense of shame in my part, it's been a long day and I'm going to pass out now. bye).

Thanks for waiting. You guys are really amazing with all the support.

Love you all!


	26. You're My Savior When I Fall

**Chapter 26**

* * *

Something's not right. Beca can feel it right at the centre of her chest. She had been feeling it the entire night and it had become a bit of a distraction yet the meeting she was in since early that evening had hindered her from getting up the chair and heading to what could probably be the source, or better yet, who it's coming from. Unfortunately, the main discussion of the meeting had been extremely serious and had run on for hours, far longer than the usual meetings so it had to wait, no matter how painful it was getting.

Despite her intense focus on the reports being projected on to her screen from the video conference call straight from Romania, in the back of her mind she worries for the other half of her heart. Something's not right.

When the meeting finally ends, she almost jumps out of her seat and bolts out the door of her office. All the while, she places a hand over her chest to calm her beating heart.

When she bursts in through the door of her room, her eyes instantly lock on the person her heart seeks. The air between them stirs with a mixture of heaviness and sadness. It's like being draped over with a wet blanket made of wool, heavy and suffocating. Chloe was looking out the window before she came. When she steps in, the redhead turns her head to the side.

Something's seriously wrong.

From her tired movements to the lack of that sudden burst of energy and enthusiasm that she always exudes even if she's just standing in the corner clearly, something was bothering her enough to bring her mood down like this and Beca is ready to punch whoever was responsible for it.

Without hesitation, she crosses the gap between them and reaches out to hold Chloe, making her beloved redhead face her and pulling her closer to her arms where she hugs her tightly. She doesn't find resistance yet nor does she feel any sort of immediate reciprocation from the usually extremely affectionate redhead. Chloe's hands remain limp on her side for awhile until Beca feels them finally wrapping around her. Finally.

"Sunshine," It comes out as a whisper.

She tenderly caresses the back of Chloe's head with her hand before parting a bit to look into those beautiful yet sad blue eyes, "What's wrong?" she asks softly but Chloe's eyes glance down, not meeting her own dark blues. So she tries again, her hand moving to the redhead's cheek, "Who is it?"

Chloe weakly shakes her head in reply and it seemed like she wanted to say something but didn't know how. Beca could sense the struggle deep inside and it's causing her to worry even more. It's already been decided that Chloe Beale looking this forlorn is something she hates. She hates it because nobody is allowed to hurt her love and it pains her to see her like this.

There are already a million possible scenarios as to what have caused this and every single one of them angers her.

"Is it Tom? Did he try to touch you again?" she suddenly asks, the difficulty of controlling her rage audible with her words. Just the thought of it makes her want to blow someone up into smithereens.

When Chloe shakes her head the rage lessens but then she's back to thinking about what else could have happened, something devastating enough to bring Chloe looking this depressed.

But it seems as if her favourite redhead isn't ready to speak so Beca tries a more positive approach. At this point, she is willing to try anything that could bring Chloe to smile again.

"Do you want to go somewhere far? Anywhere with good food and music?"

There should be a smile anytime now no matter how small but instead the words finally coming out of her lips brings Beca's world to a stop.

"Is that what you and Stefan used to do?"

Her body stiffens at the name, her mind trying to catch the words spoken from the very lips she adored. Her hand on Chloe's cheek stills as she looks like she's just been shot. It terribly feels like it too, sudden and followed by an extremely excruciating pain spreading all over your body. Especially when those gorgeous baby blues filled with hurt look up at her.

The whole sky must've fell and crashed right upon her at that moment.

Beca doesn't know how to react to this. Of all the things that could go wrong tonight, this wasn't even on her list. This was the worst and to be honest, she doesn't know where to start. She has questions, too many of them and it's all making a mess in her head. She doesn't even want to know what all this is doing to her heart.

"Is it true?"

Chloe's broken tone makes her hands fall down to her sides. She wasn't ready for this.

At her lack of response, Chloe nods her head a couple of times as if trying to swallow this information which Beca's silence has most probably just confirmed.

Because, ironically, no answer is also an answer and the weight it brings is heavier than actual words.

But Beca knows she has to try, every fibre of her being urging her to fix this mess. She's never been one to do the fixing but with Chloe it feels like her whole life is at stake.

She's lost her once. Going through that again would kill her.

"Chlo, I can explain. Stefan and I—all the things I've done are horrible and it's impossible to justify but I would never have let him hurt you. I—"

"Hurt? Do you know how much it hurts to watch somebody you love being tortured in front of you only for it to turn out to be a lie. It feels like a really horrible joke that went too far," Chloe interrupts her. "I was there, Becs, thinking that, that was it! I was going to lose you forever!" she inhales shakily and watching her like this is like being torn apart from the inside.

"This isn't about what you did in the past, no. It doesn't matter to me! It's you, keeping _this_ fact from me as if…" she trails off as she sniffs, tears starting to fall.

When she gets control of her emotions for a bit, she continues in a small voice, "You don't trust me,"

She faces her once more, eyes filled with tears. "Did you really think that I couldn't accept everything about you? I get that you couldn't tell me then, but now? Now that you know how I feel about you? God, Becs!"she breaks into a sob again.

Beca takes a tentative step forward, unsure and suddenly scared of where this is going, "Chlo, I didn't mean to…"

"Eight years and still, you haven't forgiven me," she cuts her off and the weak, uncertain tone is absolutely heartbreaking to hear.

"That's what it is, isn't it? You haven't forgiven me for what I've done and because of that you don't believe in me. You still think that this, us, is temporary. You still think that suddenly I'm just going to leave, that I'm not capable of being permanent in your life. That once I can't handle the truth, I'm incapable of staying," she cuts in a sad, weak tone.

"I've left everything I once knew not only for myself but because I love," she chokes back another sob. "I love you and I could never see myself being with anybody else. I'm willing to fight for you. I'm willing to… die for you. I'll do anything for you, anything, Beca. What more do I need to do to prove it to you? Because if you can't trust me, if you still have doubts, then… this, us, isn't going to work," she slowly shakes her head, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

Beca shakes her head, her whole system panicking at the implication of Chloe's words but like a broken dam, everything just seems out of control.

When Chloe looks at her again, her chest feels like it is being crushed by an unbearable weight. "You're my soul mate, Beca… or is it just me who believes that we are?"

She steps away and Beca's chest starts to tighten. Her heart being squeezed painfully with every step she takes further away from her. So she desperately reaches out, embracing Chloe from behind.

"That's not true," she says in an unsteady tone, her own tears starting to fall. "I love you so much, Chloe. So much. You are my soul mate. Nobody else," she says in a pleading tone, arms tightening around her sunshine when she feels her trying to slip away, the comfortable warmth suddenly scorching her.

"I'm sorry," she softly says repeatedly with such desperation, planting tender kisses on Chloe's neck and shoulder.

But Chloe's hands continue to break her hold on her and with one strong tug, she frees herself.

"I just want to be alone for a while. I'm… exhausted," Chloe tiredly says before leaving her standing to stare at the empty space where she once stood.

And as the sunshine slowly fades out of her life, there she is left with nothing but darkness. It's cold and it almost feels like death. Death and its dark cloak which has always shrouded Beca's life, following her around like a shadow dragging along with it all the monsters in her life.

She wants to move. To run after that sunshine, her sunshine, yet her feet remain rooted on the spot as the door closes. Her mind buckles into a series of memories, her mother's death, of the blood seeping through the door, of the horrible sounds of death, of her brother walking out the door and leaving her, and the uncertainty of her brother coming back alive. It's that very uncertainty that paralyzes her.

Her breaths become ragged, her heart pumping and before she knows it, her back hits the wall. Her legs give way as she slides down the ground, head hanging low with her hands covering her ears in hopes of blocking out the sound. She shuts her eyes close because the more she looks at the door, the worse it gets, whatever 'worse' means at this point.

It's a tricky thing, letting the darkness pass. But the only thing to remember is that, _it'll pass_.

Beca doesn't know how long it has been only that she feels a presence sitting next to her. The first thought that comes to her head is Chloe but it's probably just what her heart hopes for because when she finally looks up, it's Stacie looking back at her.

"Hey,"

"Hey," Beca replies back and she almost doesn't recognize her own voice, distant and dry.

"She started asking questions," Stacie says after a long pause. "And I," another pause follows and this time there's guilt in her eyes before she speaks again.

"I can't lie to family,"

Her cousin looks down and sighs heavily. "You don't do that. That's what you said. That's what we always stuck to. So, I told Chloe," she confesses.

"She should know," Beca manages to say albeit weakly.

"Still, it should've come from you," Stacie continues and Beca shakes her head at that.

"It's okay. It's about time. It's my fault for letting it drag on this long. You just got caught in it. _I'm_ sorry,"

"She's downstairs with the girls, eating ice-cream and binge watching some human drama about teenagers solving mysteries and murders in a 70's themed diner, just so you know," Stacie informs her and she nods.

Comfortable silence follows until her cousin breaks it once more.

"There's only so much a person can handle on their own and I think that it's okay to ask for help sometimes," she tells her in a serious tone that is rarely heard from the usually easy-going brunette.

"No one can survive alone. Just… don't forget to turn around. We're right here, no matter how useless our solutions to problems could be at times," Stacie says with a chuckle but the sincerity of her words run down deep at Beca's veins until it flows right back to her heart.

Her cousin pulls her in for a hug despite the sound of disgust sputtering out of her lips. She doesn't push away though despite the sudden blur starting to cloud her vision. Instead, her fingertips touch tentatively on Stacie's arm and that already says a lot.

"You love each other so much. There's nothing that could separate you both. This, this is nothing compared to everything you both went through. Just give her a bit more time. You know it's not easy, loving a Du Pont,"

When Stacie leaves, she digs through her pockets until she feels the familiar metal on her fingers. She takes it out carefully, the beautiful diamond encrusted ring meant to be worn by the woman her heart helplessly seeks. It was originally her mother's so she had it brought in the shop where it was bought in order to have it customized.

And it's almost as if she believes in it. She's trying, even if it scares her so much. That maybe it's actually okay to be vulnerable, afraid and weak sometimes. That not everything she touches turns to ashes in the end.

Maybe this time… _it's forever._

* * *

Beca heads to the airport. But not before leaving a one-way ticket to France underneath Chloe's favorite coffee mug, the white mug that matches her black one, and hopes that Paris could help her mend what needs mending. It's not entirely vacation though but they've talked about heading there before the cold space between them existed. The plan was Beca leaves first since Chloe has a presentation for one of her classes and it's important.

It's been two days and unfortunately, work has been demanding her time and time zones are starting to take its toll, making her unable to contact home without waking everybody up. It's frustrating but thankfully, Emily has been sending her messages about Chloe. Where they've went today, how she's doing and how her smile doesn't really reach her eyes these past two days.

It's frustrating and it hurts.

She's been a mess herself as well and it's starting to show on her face. How could she even close her eyes when the warmth she had been used to is nowhere near her?

But all her worries eventually dissipate when she returns one evening back to her family home to find a familiar pair of suitcases in her room.

Hope leaps in her chest.

Chloe is finally in Paris and it seems she's been invited for a short Parisian tour with Emily's parents as a warm welcome before the Claiborne Gala event they'd be attending after midnight. Her insides twist at the thoughts running in her head and her nerves aren't making it any better.

 _Be brave_ , that's all she could think of. That's what her mother used to say.

But then again, it's not easy when she is treated to such a gorgeous sight and is left breathless from it.

There's always something that stuns her whenever Chloe Beale dresses up so elegantly for special evenings like this and Beca realizes just how much she misses her. She misses her touch, her kisses and her smile that, to be honest, she doesn't even believe that she had turned into this kind of disgusting romantic. But that's what you become when you succumb to the radiating love of one Chloe Beale and Beca doesn't really care.

When it comes to Chloe it's useless to fight it, she's already learned that.

Anxiety builds inside her chest but when she slowly, cautiously, reaches out her hand for Chloe to take, intertwining her fingers so gently over the redhead's, Chloe curls her hand around hers in the same slow, tentative manner. Bright blue finds dark blue and in that moment, just behind the door of the main event hall, Beca's troubled heart finally starts to find the light it lost.

And because communicating in heavily emotional moments like this isn't her strongest point, she settles with a hopeful, "Later?" because sometimes they still do talk in a language out of this world.

"Later," Chloe responds with a nod and the tiniest smile in her lips almost makes this night feel so much better.

The door opens and the usual grand introductions are made. As usual her eyes never leave Chloe's, just looking right into them soothes her soul. There's a promise in the gentle squeeze that she makes just before they enter the hall and succumb to the evening's formalities.

It's boring, as always and Beca would still prefer to be anywhere else but there. It's the same faces anyway, the same classical music drifting in the background, the same expensive artsy dishes on fancy chinaware and the same discussions over blood wine. Beca is expected to leave a speech, nothing too dramatic this time, just being sincere and direct would do really.

She's already halfway through her thoughts about military funding being unnecessary in this time of peace—and that the money could be spent on more important issues—when she hears it, the soft click and feels that familiar tingle in the back of her spine. After years of being trained by her brother, her senses to danger have upgraded three times stronger than average and it's the very reason why she's still breathing right now.

It only takes half a second for her body to react, swerving to the side, her eyes briefly catching sight of the tiny silver bullet with a sharp edge whizzing past her and missing her heart.

A body drops and it's one of her security staff.

There's a moment of silence where everybody just freezes before the panic erupts, screams are heard and everybody is just scampering to safety. Beca is thrown down the ground as her security shield her from the ongoing attack. It's an assassination attempt and yet Beca's mind only bears one thought.

"Chloe!" she yells out before her eyes catch auburn locks and scared baby blue eyes. Chloe was down on the floor as well, half of Beca's security protecting her.

She's up on her feet in the next second with her security pushing her towards the exit. All the while her eyes focus on only one thing.

"Becs!"

She stretches out her arm, hand reaching towards Chloe, who does the same, and for a brief moment their fingers connect and tangle around each other before being harshly separated. It felt like having a limb torn apart from you and Beca's fight instincts instantly kick in. Attacking her security, she tries to go against the direction she is being pulled away to rush to the most important person in her life.

Chloe.

For a second there she was almost successful, which is so astounding given that all five men had to hold her down, until her uncle Gabin grabs her shoulders from behind and hisses against her ear, "She'll be fine, Laureline will not let anything happen to her! Remember the protocol. You're the Queen and your safety is the number one priority here! We need to go, now!"

Despite her protests, she's being dragged once more to the back exit of the building where Gabin literally shoves her in a bulletproof vehicle and drives off just as planned whenever unexpected threats like this break out.

Beca is aware of the security procedures and protocols for these kinds of attack. There had been a slightly similar incident as this back when she was merely six years old. It wasn't as bad but they had to evacuate the premises and for a child it had been so frightening to be in a separated car from her parents. Even her father and mother were in separate vehicles, all three of them going in three different directions and the sad truth is, it's exactly how it's supposed to be.

In an event of a threat against the crown, it is immediate that the family be separated. The reason for this is because in case an attack is to occur, at least one of them would be saved in order for the royal bloodline to be secured. It's a morbid reason but experience had taught them a lesson when King Hector Vanderbilt and his immediate family were wiped out with a single explosion almost 72 years ago.

Fortunately, back then for the six year old Beca, she found solace in her brother's arms as he carried her into the car along with the rest of security and sped through the night towards the safe house. It had been Stefan's first assignment under the royal emblem to protect the Du Pont heir. Had he not left, it would be his job until the day he dies. He would've been the one driving her to safety right now.

"Contact Laureline," Beca orders as she clenches and unclenches her fists in hopes of calming herself down. She feels like exploding any moment now.

"We can't do that, Beca. You know that," Gabin tells her and she glares at him dangerously through the rear view mirror.

"I'm ordering you. There's not supposed to be a discussion here," she retorts coldly, voice shaking at the amount of control she is trying to do.

"It's part of protocol and doing so will only compromise your safety. They could tap into the signals," Gabin says, unafraid of the wrath Beca is already releasing at him.

Guess it wasn't entirely coincidence that they'd assign her uncle to do the job of keeping her safe. Only a Du Pont wouldn't buckle easily against her rule-breaking demands.

"I don't care about my safety. Call my cousin, now. I need status updates," she stresses word by word, gritting her teeth as Gabin, again, refuses.

"Gabin!"

"If Chloe is to sit next to your throne and be crowned Queen then this is how it's going to be like every time this happens, Rebecca!" Gabin angrily yells back, pausing for a minute before speaking again in a much calmer manner.

"This is what she's signed up for when she chose to be with you. This is what both of you signed up for when you decided to stay together,"

That's enough to silence her until they reach the safe house, another property of the Du Ponts located in a provincial area in France.

Her uncle's words stick to her head even as they escort her into her room and leave her as she had requested.

Waiting had always been the hardest part. Waiting makes you drown in all sorts of thoughts, a jumbled mixture of the hopeful ones and the worst ones.

In the darkness of the room, she looks up at the closed door, a familiar sight all throughout her childhood. Here is where it's safe, where, somehow, only a piece of wood separates her from the nightmares that keep following her. All her life, she's learned that in order to survive there are things that she needed to keep deep within. That in order to keep her heart intact she needed to hide behind walls and let the chaos outside play itself out. The only thing she needed to survive was to not care.

But at this moment, that strong belief is in the brink of shattering. Her fingers brushing against metal before wrapping around the handle and it only takes one twist for it to open.

Because this time, _it's worth the risk_.

With a shaky breath and trembling hands, she unlocks and opens it against every fibre of her body telling her no.

 _Because Chloe Beale is worth the risk._

Light floods through as she takes a step forward and within seconds a warm body collides on to her, arms tightly wrapping around her. It's like air filling up her lungs for the first time. She grasps on to it, desperately and hungrily.

Snapping out of her daze, her arms fly around the body against her, clinging and squeezing hard for dear life. Something breaks inside her, but this time it isn't her heart. Instead, tears flow down her cheeks as she buries her nose into auburn locks.

"Sunshine," she brokenly sobs.

"Midnight,"

Chloe's hand softly comes up to her cheek, fingers tenderly brushing on to skin to wipe the tears as she leans her forehead against Beca's.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, really. No scratches, see?" she quickly assures her with a small smile.

It would've made Beca smile too if her mind wasn't running a million miles per hour. She knew what she had to do, what she had to say and nobody can stop her from saying them. Not when she finally sees it, what her heart has created.

"I was wrong," she whispers, each word bleeding straight from her chest.

Chloe shakes her head, apparently misunderstanding the meaning behind it.

"It's protocol. You had to—"

"No, Chloe. It's not that. Please, let me," she cuts in, cradling Chloe's face with her hands.

When she looks into those galaxies hidden beneath those bright blue eyes, the words in the tip of her tongue flow out effortlessly

"I've lived my life all this time with this acceptance that everything I love is bound to die. So I welcomed the darkness, I embraced all that is bad and wrong. I welcomed it with open arms and let it consume me that when the time came that something good happens in my life, I'm left not knowing what to do with it," she closes her eyes and inhales shakily before opening them again.

"And because the only thing I know is to destroy everything I touch, I only end up hurting the people who try to love me. The thought is that, I'll end up losing them anyway so, before it gets to that point, I tear it apart to save myself but then," she caresses Chloe's face as if it was something so precious.

 _It is._

"You happened," she swallows hard knowing that there's no going back after this.

"And it scared me because no matter how much I rub myself clean, the stains you left all over me just won't come off. After you kissed me on top of that damn platform years ago, I knew it. I already knew deep down, I'm completely ruined in the best way possible," she shakes her head, a chuckle escaping her lips at the memory and it's infectious enough to create a smile on Chloe's own lips.

"Yeah, I… really don't know how else to get your attention. But then you _fell_ , hard, and literally, so, guess it worked," Chloe's smile widens while Beca's heart grows at the sight of it.

Her own smile fades as she prepares herself, "I've been worse than evil. I've done things I regret. I am so, so hard to love, Chloe. I made mistakes in my life, so many mistakes and believe me, I'm going to make more in the future but you have to know, _you have to know_ , that losing you is a mistake I would never even think of making. You being apart from me, that's a world I don't want to live in,"

She slides her hands down to Chloe's arm until she holds her hand, tightly.

"And that's why I kept it from you, because I was afraid that I would lose you and also because I wasn't ready to show you that… side of me. I mean, how…," she trails off as her eyes start to sting, the tears threatening to fall once more that she almost chokes on her words.

"How can I when you look at me like that? Like I'm everything that is good when really, I'm far from that,"

And this time it's Chloe who cuts her short, "And it's true, you are the best thing that's ever happened to me. You don't see it but I do. I see _you_ ,"

A tear rolls down her cheeks as she nods, the decision solid in her mind.

"I want you to know everything. Stefan, my mother, all of it,"

"You know, we can always do it little by little at a time," Chloe gently says but Beca shakes her head to dismiss the thought.

"No, I want to tell you everything. Right here, right now. I'm ready,"

And she does as she leads Chloe back in to the room and sits down to confess every single detail from the beginning to the end. The darkest of secrets she never thought she'd open up with someone, all the scars that she had acquired. Of the nightmares that wake her up at night. She confesses it all through the tears and the pain. It felt like opening up her chest to unload such heavy burden, a burden Chloe lightens as she embraces her tightly, tears streaming down her own face.

But it's when she says those very words that it hits Beca the most. The very words that make her tear away her gaze from the closed door, from the shadows lurking in the distance and from all the fears she has carried ever since she was young.

Her eyes falling down into mesmerizing baby blues.

"I'm not going anywhere, Becs. I'm here, I'll stay,"

They are words that when heard sound so simple, familiar, used but mean so much. They are also words that have never been directed at her before.

Hearing it, something clicks in place and everything suddenly becomes clear. There's no reason to stall.

This is _the_ moment.

She abruptly stands up, looking down at Chloe. Lifting up her hand, her fingertips gently brush through soft skin, tracing her face so preciously. She does it so lovingly that Chloe leans in to her touch before planting a soft kiss on the palm of her hand.

"There's something in the mansion that I left behind and because of that I guess I'll have to do it the traditional way," she says before slowly taking off her crown and holding it carefully in her hands.

Confusion slowly paints Chloe's face but she continues.

"Crowned royalty never kneels down except for two occasions. The coronation day and… the night where she will promise eternity to her beloved,"

With that, she slowly drops down on one knee, eyes never wavering from the eyes she adores the most.

The small gasp Chloe makes doesn't escape her ears and so does the loud beating of her own heart.

"I know, it's too soon but when I think about it, years ago under the weeping willow tree, _our tree_ , near the lake at the back of my house, my heart had unconsciously decided to be with you. This bond we have is the result of that," she says softly.

There's fear and uncertainty inside her chest but her mother's words continuously resonate inside her head. _Be brave, Beca._

"It's stupid to have your soul mate stand right in front of you for so long and not seal the deal when people are out there losing theirs. And yes, _you_ are my soul mate, Chloe," she takes a deep breath, the emotions starting to pile up inside her and wanting to burst.

"If there's one thing I learned about death in the many times that I brushed shoulders with it, is that you do not waste your life hesitating out of fear and over-thinking things. Every moment is precious and with you… I don't want to waste a single second by not letting you know how much I love you,"

She slowly lifts up the crown she is holding, offering it towards her. It's just a small circular piece of gold with encrusted diamonds and precious stones around it but the weight it carries is heavy. It bears the responsibilities she has as a Queen, the symbol of power, her promise to protect and serve yet tonight, it bears something else as well, Beca's heart.

And she's offering all of it to Chloe.

"This is all of it," she breathes out, hoping to calm her heart.

"You've seen everything. You now know everything. So, this is me, raw, unfiltered, unmasked and filled with lots and lots of scars that are all still in the process of healing. It'll take time. There's still a lot of demons in my head that I have to chase away," she swallows hard, the words suddenly so difficult to say.

"Chloe there's still a lot I need to improve and—"

"Becs," Chloe cuts her before slowly lifting her chin up to look her in the eye. Beca is almost certain that Chloe can see the nervousness and anxiousness in her own but it's only because she desperately wants it to work.

But all that uncertainty slowly ebbs away at the smile carefully forming in her beloved redhead's face. When Chloe places a hand gently over her cheek and brushes a lone tear escaping the corner of her eye, those fears fade into nothing.

"Please just ask the question," Chloe finally says and at this point Beca realizes that their lives are just about to change for good.

"Will you be mine always and forever?"

The answer comes quickly as Chloe nods enthusiastically and throwing her arms around her for a tight hug. The smile in her face is precious and Beca is sure she is sporting the same cheesy grin herself.

The much anticipated reply being whispered so solemnly on her ear creating fireworks in her chest,

"Stars van cosmos,"

 _Always and forever._

In a moment Chloe pulls her back on her feet and Beca wastes no time in pulling her in for a kiss. She kisses Chloe again and again, each one with a beautiful promise and much love that her heart just couldn't contain deep down anymore.

Resting her forehead against Chloe's, Beca finally remembers one more thing. She lifts up her crown and carefully places it on top of red locks. When she pulls away a bit to look at it, she quietly looks in awe at the sight.

"It suits you. You're going to be the loveliest Queen Corvinn has ever seen," she gushes sincerely before wiping the tears falling down along Chloe's cheeks.

"My Queen," she whispers softly, the words swallowed in by Chloe's lips as she leans in to kiss her.

Beca's never felt this happy in her life. The truth is, she could only count in one hand the moments when she felt something almost as close to this. And she may still think that the world is horrible with unspeakable evil lurking everywhere but here at this moment as she runs her hands through smooth skin, pressing her body against Chloe's underneath twisted sheets, limbs tangled and lips locked as if air didn't exist, there at that moment when their hearts beat at exactly the same rhythm, Beca finally believes in it, that she could be happy for the rest of her life like this and no evil can kill the love she will be fiercely protecting from now on.

And maybe she still wakes up in the middle of the day with a swirl of nightmares surrounding her head, of whispers from the dead, of rattling door knobs and blood leaking from the cracks but this time, instead of falling into icy waters it's a warm embrace that catches her and loving baby blue eyes that keep her sane.

For the first time in such a long time, as she closes her eyes once more to the sound of Chloe's gentle humming, Beca Mitchell finally feels safe.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Hello. From. The. Other. Side. Beep.

Okay, maybe I do owe you guys an explanation for my... absence. Well, it has been a very busy couple of months for me with work and life. But that's just part of the reason. The reason isn't something technology related or work related. It's because... do you know what it's like to write a happy love story when you're not... that happy... or in love- or when you meet this wonderful person in the same month long training program your with and you have this instant connection and suddenly you somehow kinda... catch the dreaded... _feelings..._ but then you're not even sure if they feel the same way and only see you as a friend... and she's probably not even into... girls. Oh crap.

Ahh, now I know what it feels like when they tell you: "Don't fall in love with a straight girl" because you'll end up shattered, I tell you. Shattered in the worst possible way, yep. Don't do it... even though I know I'm going to dive into it again anyway like a masochist.

And no, you don't just tell someone to just go and confess some certain feelings to certain people whom you value your friendship with-and are straight-like in the movies or those fanfics. Just No. No matter what the outcome, it's never going to be the same way again, kids.

Meh. Side note, It's all probably bad advice. Don't listen to me.

But here I am! I made it! I'm alive! And now somehow understand why Taylor Swift writes songs when she breaks her heart because when I had all the sad feels I wrote a fucking fanfic (which I'm not going to release until Midnight Sunshine is done) and wow, would you believe it, it's sort of therapeutic.

 **Anyways, enough of my woes. Let's talk about... Beca and Stefan. Ah yes, I saw the readers reactions to the Du Pont siblings and their very strong _relationship_. And yeah I'm not going to deny it. It's a fucked up relationship. I created Beca with the thought of someone who is emotionally damaged and reckless. None of my characters are perfect. I'm never going to write about perfect characters. That's BORING and unrealistic. **

**Sorry to those who came in expecting something lighthearted and sweet but no, they are all flawed and the story isn't as beautiful and innocent as you want it to be.**

 **So yeah, Beca isn't a saint or normal or righteous and neither are any of my other characters. If you expect someone to go through that kind of life and be all cheerful, sweet and happy with no fucked up issues whatsoever then you must be living in a fictional paradise because that's not how it works in real life.**

 **But I feel like sharing my side, why I wrote Stefan and Beca's story line like that, just a little insight maybe. I want to point out that yeah it's a toxic relationship and I don't condone that but if you look at it closely, especially on that little part where Stefan sneaks in eight year old Beca's room to see her, there's a reason why Beca's love and loyalty for him is unmeasurable.**

 **Beca, 8 year old Beca, as Stefan pointed out, has lost weight ( _"They don't cook like mommy does. It tastes different"_ ). It was Stefan who noticed not Beca's father, Darius, who is supposedly the one who should be taking care of his daughter now that his wife is gone. Beca has nightmares and yes, it's Stefan who stays with her all day until she does go to sleep, not her father (There's a reason Beca wants him to stay with her because yes, the nightmares haunt her but he is _"gone every time she wakes up"_ ). Darius' solution to Beca's _'bad behaviour'_ at the Vanderbilts was to send her to Russia (Just as he did with Stefan). Darius didn't even know that his own daughter was getting bullied and harassed. And yes, it was Stefan who knew (He taught her everything remember? He most definitely taught her how to defend herself).**

 **Was it Stockholm Syndrome? Well, I don't know much about that but they knew each other already with Beca seeing him as a significant part of her life ever since she gained consciousness. He is family. And yeah, maybe somehow it is because she's a minor but then when I was writing this I thought that if I was Stefan, seeing how my 8 year old baby sister isn't being taken care of the way she should've been (with the eating problem and the nightmares), would I leave her in the care of an absent (suicidal- _"He stabbed himself in the heart before I could stop him"_ ) father who has given up on life? **

**There's just no way I'm doing that.**

 **He made a difficult decision then and there because it's like choosing the lesser evil.**

 **Stefan may not have the best life or safest line of work, yeah, he's a drug dealer, arms dealer and illegal car racer who will not think twice in murdering people who try to hurt and take his baby sister away from him, but he was there. He was present. He gave her the affection Darius wouldn't give and that's why Beca knew love. She got it from her mother, Stefan and finally, Chloe.**

 **Stefan killed Robbyn. Now, that's where things get complicated. And yeah it's twisted to think that Beca seemed to have forgiven him easily for it. But that's the sad thing about it, he was all she had, at least that's what she thought. They only ever had each other. That despite the unforgivable act he did, she still loved him enough to forgive him because to Beca, Stefan was _the stars that would always lead her back home._**

 **It's pure tragedy. There was no happy ending for them. Did they love each other more than siblings? Was it incest? Is Stefan actually Beca's first love? It's... hard to tell because their relationship is so strong and the lines sometimes get a bit blurry. I really intended it to be like that... but maybe at some point, they did.**

 **Beca was willing to stab Stefan for Chloe but not enough to kill him.**

 **However...**

 **Beca was willing to die for Stefan but not enough to make her completely leave Chloe for good.**

 **I know, it's super complicated and I guess that's partly why Stefan chose death, to let Beca go and finally be happy. He was willing to leave her with Chloe because he knows that Chloe will take care of her better than he ever did.**

 **He loved Beca enough to let her go because he knows that he is the one holding her back from being truly happy.**

 **I just wished that he didn't choose to end his life and let Beca help him but he was far too gone to see any of that and it's sad. Tragic indeed.**

 **And I'm going to leave it at that.**

 **Thanks for reading! Next update in... probably two weeks?**


	27. And You May Not Think I Care For You

**Chapter 27**

 **Part 1**

* * *

Aubrey Antonette Posen always has a goal. She actually has more than one and she keeps them neatly written in a special notebook. It is also true that she is dead serious in doing everything to achieve every single one of them and so far, she's doing extremely well at it.

Determination and hard work has always been the life blood of the Posens so it's no wonder her whole family consistently abides by it. As a matter of fact, prestigious and illustrious are the very words always used to describe her family. Which is why there is no room for error and error is certainly Aubrey's worst fear. To fail is not an option and the pressure is always immense. But Aubrey handles it all with grace. She's always succeeded in getting what she strived to achieve and that's really all that matters to her.

Aubrey always shoots for the stars. It's what she had been trained to do. It's what is expected of her and the name she carries. And for as long as she remains on top of everything her life will surely be sailing perfectly, just the way she always wanted.

That is, until one Stacie Conrad came sauntering into the picture.

Anastacia Cerise Conrad or Stacie 'Aphrodite's problematic child' Conrad, as she is famously called, came one evening strutting confidently along the expensively polished tiles of Constantine Albert in her bold red high heels as she laughs along her sister and cousins.

Of course, like the Vanderbilts, they immediately draw everyone's attention. From their Parisian leather aesthetic to their seductive-sounding French banter, they stand out so brightly, especially when they proudly wear the symbol of their blood red family crest embroidered on their jackets and carved on their rings. A habit every elite never forgets to show whenever out in public.

Cocky and wild, that's a Du Pont for you.

As a matter of fact, they happen to be massive flirts who always love to party and have 'fun'. Obviously, the kind of people Aubrey and her sophisticated family would never _ever_ associate with.

Also, it's no secret that the Vanderbilts and the Du Ponts have been huge rivals for centuries which means Aubrey's disgust for them increases even more. She even wonders how the Du Pont bloodline managed to join the ranks of royalty with their cheap and reckless way of life.

Great great great uncle Vlad Dracula must surely be disappointed if he were still alive.

However, Aubrey's not in the mood to fight openly with a Du Pont. She might never be in the mood for it in this lifetime. It's tiring and will amount to nothing but trouble anyway. Besides, between working to secure her top spot in class and cheerleading practice, Aubrey is just too busy to concern herself with useless matters. So, as usual, she ignores them instead, like any mature vampire would.

But then again, Aubrey will take no care into involving herself with the Du Ponts, be it in a rivalry war or devious trickery, for as long as they stay out of her way. However, should they make one wrong move in messing with her family and getting in the way of her precious goals, now that's a different case.

A good example of that would be when she finds herself suddenly sharing the top spot with none other than the newest, popular 'it girl' of Constantine Albert, Stacie. A feat nobody has ever done before.

Add in the fact that due to Stacie's academic records in France and her astoundingly high score in her entrance exam the supposedly junior student had been accelerated up a couple of subjects at the same year level as her makes it even more… humiliating.

That's when Aubrey finally realizes that Stacie Conrad is a huge threat to her carefully planned number one streak. Which is why she vows that no matter what happens, that cunning fox is never going to knock her off her top spot, her throne.

Eventually, after the push and pull for dominance, with Stacie throwing air kisses and winks her way every time Aubrey loses, the Du Pont ultimately slips and falls down third place and to be honest, it bothers Aubrey that she doesn't seem affected by it at all. It's as if she's just been playing a game all this time then suddenly got bored halfway. It's insulting, to be honest. Aubrey takes her future really seriously and she's always believed that the steps to success start in the classroom. For Stacie to belittle that, is making her blood boil.

Besides, Stacie losing to her doesn't even settle to her as fair. The Du Pont seemingly, as previously pointed out, got bored halfway through and has shifted her focus back to making-out under the moonlight with just about anyone she fancies, a scene Aubrey has the misfortune of witnessing every once in a while.

Silently, she shakes her head and tries not to gag whenever she spots Stacie engaged in a heated lip-locking session by the fountain with popular volleyball star player, Carina Salvador.

She was just about to turn away from the disgusting scene when Stacie's eyes suddenly glance upwards, staring directly up at the transparent glass windows of the library where Aubrey's table is situated. Taken off guard, Aubrey doesn't immediately avert her eyes—or habitually roll them in annoyance—instead, she stares back at her, unable to pull away for some reason until it snaps when Stacie gives her a wink, followed by that irritating smirk that again, makes her blood boil.

Also, she's not flustered.

She mentally reasons that her heated cheeks are a result of the unmeasurable amount of anger sizzling in her chest. She's just about mad enough to flip all the tables in the library right now and for the record, it normally takes a lot to make her feel that way. In the end, she leaves earlier than intended, thoughts of strangling a certain Du Pont weighing heavily in her mind.

Of course, Stacie suddenly decides that the spot by the fountain would be her playgirl mansion, bringing anyone she desire to blatantly make-out with which also means Aubrey's favorite spot—take note, a highly coveted spot—in the library has been tainted with such a vulgar scene.

But would that stop Aubrey from getting her peace?

Definitely not.

The perks of hailing from a very affluent family is that once you demand something everyone instantly takes action.

Her solution?

Curtains.

Golden Italian curtains, the colour of the Vanderbilt family crest are instantly hung up the library windows in order for Aubrey to get her focus and privacy back without any distractions to steal her attention away. And with that Aubrey adds that to the list of all her victories—of which she has all handled _maturely_ on her part.

That makes two points in her favour now.

Aubrey believes in fighting without having to stoop down low on to the same level as your enemies. There's always class in everything she does and she takes pride in it. But then make no mistake, if anyone tries to disrespect her family she _can_ play savagely as well.

So when her cousin, Chloe, comes home teary-eyed because of a Du Pont who blatantly humiliated her in class, Aubrey is suddenly hungry for revenge. But if anyone thinks that she's going to foolishly go charging towards King Darius' daughter and heir of the Du Pont bloodline's high seat then they're wrong. Aubrey is smarter than that and she also happens to know that there is nothing that angers someone more than going after their loved ones.

Love is weakness. Love is strength. Love makes you do things, stupid things. It makes you go crazy.

Aubrey Posen doesn't want to go crazy. If she could personally beg to the higher forces up above to take her heart instead, she would've done it in a blink of an eye.

And who would be a better target for revenge but one long-legged brunette who has pissed her off multiple times with those unwelcomed winks and smirks she keeps throwing Aubrey's way as if she wanted it. Mind you, she'd rather go on a blood fast than be in the company of a Du Pont.

Her revenge was simple. It only needed a bit of bribery, a lot of patience and the perfect timing to work.

See, the thing about executing a perfect plan according to Aubrey herself is not to rush things, even if your emotions dictate otherwise. So, she waits in silence like a predator in the wild, getting ready to pounce until the opportunity comes.

And it does.

Stacie officially dates Ethan Williams, a non-elite, a fact that makes Aubrey cringe. How the Du Ponts could just make relationships with anyone out of the elite circle baffles her. Ethan wasn't even an athlete or part of any important school organization. He was just some average guy who seemed like he'd be into art and poetry—based on the sketchpads he carries, the art books he reads, the relaxed borderline lazy attitude, minimalistic fashion and the unkempt mop of hair he sports.

In short, Ethan was nobody important. He's just one of those people standing in the sidelines. Yet, somehow, Stacie sees something in him to make her stay in a relationship for _that_ long. Aubrey thinks that it's probably because they are so alike and as everyone knows, birds of the same feather fuck each o—flock together.

As Aubrey knows, Stacie only has flings that last in a span of days, three days at the most, all of which she takes to her 'playgirl fountain', all except for her current boy toy, which makes Ethan valuable to her.

This is where opportunity opens its doors. Revenge can finally be served.

It's harsh and brutal but when Beca 'I hate everyone except for people I want to fuck' Mitchell continues to make her cousin's life hell, Aubrey can do nothing but _simply_ … return the favour.

And Ethan has an ex-girlfriend.

This is where the bribery comes in.

Money is not a problem for Aubrey. The Vanderbilts have always paid people to do whatever they want done. Every elite family has but the Vanderbilts easily bag the award for the most times they've done it. It's a family trait which Aubrey has acquired since birth. So if she needed to pay one jealous ex-girlfriend to wreck havoc on the romantic paradise Stacie and Ethan are currently residing in to get her revenge then… she's just acting on what she's been taught to do.

If there is one thing Aubrey has learned about men it's that they can be easily manipulated. You just need a pair of boobs and a whole lot of booze. Throw in a former flame and watch as the foundations of love burn down the ground.

Ruthlessly, she gets front row seats to the drama unfolding in front of her as she sips on her fruit juice, looking like she just won the highest bid for a rare piece at an art gallery.

She takes amusement in the way that Ethan desperately tries to beg for forgiveness and explain how drunk he was that night at his friend's birthday party, drunk enough to do things that _he_ _didn't mean to do_.

Stacie answers him with a slap on his face and walks away.

Aubrey considers her revenge successful until she sees the look of hurt on the brunette's face. It is enough to erase the amused smile on her lips in an instant. But Aubrey never admits guilt, at least… not out loud.

Besides, Stacie wasn't 'that' serious about him, right? Surely she'd be replacing him with someone else in a week right?

She doesn't.

In fact, the long-legged Du Pont seemed lethargic, her gaze always far and her natural playfulness toned down to an alarmingly low level.

But that's temporary, _right?_

It doesn't seem like it.

One more week passes by and Stacie remains surprisingly single and unavailable. Her absence at her favorite make-out playground is starting to become worrisome—and as much as she hates to acknowledge it—even for Aubrey.

She takes down the curtains in the library and she's intentionally marked an answer wrong so the Du Pont could snicker about it like she usually does when Aubrey makes—a very, _very_ small—mistake and not look far away out in the window uninterestedly.

Four more days pass with the weekend slowly approaching and finally Aubrey is ready to admit that she's unable to take it anymore. Especially when whispers of one Beca Mitchell being the cause of Ethan Williams's sudden decision to quit school—due to _health reasons_ according to his family—had become loud enough to reach Aubrey's ears.

Pushing her books aside, she packs up early and heads out walking with a purpose, a yellow post-it in the palm of her hand. She takes a sharp turn along the hallway and quickly spots Stacie placing her books in her locker, obviously finished with her classes for today.

Aubrey continues without stopping, eyes locked on her target as if she was in their family's private shooting range, firing bullets precisely inches—if not at the center—from her mark.

Stacie moves to close her locker by the time Aubrey reaches her and in a smooth move, she wordlessly slams her palm against the locker door, completely shutting it close for her.

When the Du Pont snaps her head towards her in surprise, Aubrey cocks her head to the side, motioning over the yellow post-it now sticking on the front of Stacie's locker, the one Aubrey stuck whilst said slamming of palm on metal—smooth, indeed.

The brunette naturally looks at the note curiously, reading the words scribbled elegantly in cursive fashion. The confusion and disbelief in her eyes grows even more obvious as she turns her head back at Aubrey who now has gracefully swivelled in her heels to walk away.

It only takes five long seconds until she hears footsteps following her towards the school's fountain. When she stops, she pauses for a few moments until the footsteps behind her finally catch-up.

"You leading me here to be alone would only mean that either you want to kiss me or kill me. Although I personally would prefer a mixture of both 'cause angry make-outs are hot but you're call, sweetheart," Stacie slowly teases. There's an unusual lack of bite in her tone yet Aubrey still rolls her eyes for two reasons.

One, the nerve of her to think that she wanted to be lined up with those cheap girls she brings to this unholy place. And two, the unnecessary nickname that makes her want to vomit.

She's no one's 'sweetheart'.

Turning around—because she likes a dramatic effect when confronting enemies—she stares pointedly at the brunette, arms crossed and an eyebrow perfectly arched.

"Neither," she answers coldly, using the infamous Vanderbilt intimidating icy glare.

Stacie mockingly gives her a disappointed look before sitting at the edge of the fountain, one leg casually crossing over the other while she leans back, palms resting on stone to support her. It's all done in such an effortless manner and Aubrey almost gets lost in a trance. _Almost_ is the word because unlike others who have foolishly been blinded by the witch's spell Aubrey is no fool. Her vision is undoubtedly perfect.

"Okay, so a little something in between. Cuddling then?" she eyes her amusingly. "I can do that, sure, if you ask _nicely_ ," she adds with a growing smirk on her lips.

Controlling her emotions by slowly breathing in and out, Aubrey closes her eyes, constantly reminding herself why she is trying to 'civilly' talk to a Du Pont. It's pointless but she knows she had to do this, for herself.

"I paid Tara to seduce Ethan. She's still into him apparently and hated you so she did it," she finally spits out.

Her eyes wanted to look elsewhere but she is a Posen from the Vanderbilt bloodline and has a reputation to maintain. She has dignity and class among all other superior qualities. Besides, Aubrey maybe a lot of things but she is no destroyer of relationships, the serious type of relationships to be exact.

Hailing from a family of the largest number of arranged marriages—because a bloodline doesn't just maintains its purity unless you do something about it, Aubrey knows what is real from what is fake and unfortunately, she's seen a lot of the fake to know that having something real is sacred and precious.

Her own mother loved someone else when she married Aubrey's father. Unfortunately for her father, he, in the other hand loved her mother dearly. Obviously, nobody wins in such a scenario and Aubrey wants to believe that she'd never share the same fate but then she knows that eventually, she'd soon thread the same path if needed to.

There's no bond in arranged marriages. You just remain single or at least, that's what it must feel like.

Aubrey does wonder sometimes of a living a carefree life and of getting to choose freely but that's all it is, _wondering_.

Freedom, the one thing Stacie has that she doesn't. She'll never admit that one either though even as she looks straight into the Du Pont's eyes, a mixture of different hues of green swirling around her irises. Astonishingly, there's gentleness in it that Aubrey didn't know she'd ever witness.

"I know"

The short reply throws her off-guard and she suddenly she doesn't know what to do. In fact, it's confusing enough that the thorns she has surrounded her heart with spike up as a shield whenever she feels confused. Isn't this the part where she lashes out at her or something?

"Oh, great! And when are you going to come flying back into the arms of your boy love then? This exhausting dramatic act you are sporting," she says with a flourish of her fingers all over Stacie's form before sarcastically adding, "Is enough to land you a spot in the drama society. Congratulations or as you say in French, _Chapeau!_ "

Stacie only lets out a soft chuckle, shifting her weight a bit to one side as she looks down on Aubrey's pristine Gucci heels.

"I won't,"

Stacie answers in the same short manner, making Aubrey cross her arms in front of her chest.

"Why? Because he bores you or because of the rumours that your cousin or the infamous commander of the raccoons sent him to the hospital after _accidentally_ giving him a coma?" she bites back sharply.

If it bothered Stacie, she didn't let it show instead, the Du Pont simply shrugs, "Because it doesn't matter if he was drunk or if someone paid his ex-girlfriend to seduce him. He still did it,"

The Du Pont finally looks up back at her and Aubrey finds herself yet again unable to look away, "It's no one's fault but his. It was _his_ decision in the end that matters. That's the thing about people who cheat," Stacie continues to say.

"They always had a choice and they chose to break something beautiful for something… temporarily satisfying. If I truly loved someone, no matter how many people throw themselves at me in a million different ways, I'd never do that to the person I love," heels scrape against the gravel and Stacie is standing in front of her.

"And when I fall for someone, I don't half-ass anything. When I give myself, I give myself completely without any hesitations. When I choose to love someone, I'm all in that when they break my heart, I crumble apart in the worst way possible,"

"So thank you," she finally says with such softness and sincerity that it makes Aubrey run out of words to say as she stands awkwardly still. Nobody has ever acted this way after an insult and for her, it's disturbing.

"Thank you for saving me before I could dive down even deeper to the point where it's all too late. At least, this way, I can still pick myself up,"

Stacie's lips curve into a small smile and really, Aubrey thinks she's in some weird dream where everything's just the opposite of everything she's ever known because for a second there she suddenly doesn't feel like kicking a Du Pont off a 50 storey building.

Stacie moves to leave, bag hanging loosely on her shoulder, but before she could go, the brunette stops and slightly turns to look back at her.

"I have a strong tendency to blindly see only the good in someone no matter how much of an ass they are which is also why I seem to fall in love so easily. They say that it's my biggest flaw and maybe it is," she shrugs and Aubrey wonders why in the world she's sharing something this personal with her, of all people.

But weirdly, here she was standing a couple of steps apart from Aubrey… talking like they aren't from two entirely different sides of a centuries old rivalry.

"Which is probably why… I don't think you are the bossy bitch made of ice as you like everyone to believe. I think," Stacie falters for a few moments, curious eyes wandering off a little as if finding the right words to describe her thoughts until she finally does.

"You're an old fashioned romantic who is so scared to feel for fear of having your heart placed into the wrong hands, of people who don't know how to handle a love so pure and tender. But I think you shouldn't be scared because I believe that sometimes we need to go through pain before finally reaching the happiness we all deserve and you, Aubrey Posen, deserve to be happy just like everybody else," Stacie smiles and Aubrey feels it burn against her skin like a tattoo.

" _Ciao, Bella_ ," Stacie bids her fondly in Aubrey's own mother tongue before walking away, leaving the Vanderbilt staring at her retreating form.

She's wrong and Aubrey feels her blood boiling at her words. She's not _weak_ as Stacie seems to assume. A romantic, huh? Well, she doesn't know her at all! Aubrey is anything but that. Even if the world ended she would never succumb to making herself vulnerable to others. Love is just a temporary feeling, a sudden desire filled with lust that blinds you into thinking that it's going to last forever. But what does a Du Pont know anyway?

Absolutely nothing.

* * *

Stacie returns to herself two days later and it's like their little secret meet-up never happened at all. Aubrey would like to say that nothing's changed but unfortunately, it's obvious that there's been a small shift in the way Stacie interacts with her.

The winks and flirty side-comments have grown in intensity and Aubrey is certain that this is all part of the game Stacie Conrad is playing. Which means that she mustn't lose and breaking by getting affected will be a win for the Du Pont. And because she is no easy opponent, Stacie, on her part, tries even harder.

Harder, meaning those little _love letters_ which aren't exactly 'love letters' that suddenly keep flowing down Aubrey's way, unfortunately. For Aubrey, the better words to describe it would be 'annoying waste of ink written in annoying red coloured letters'—a very Du Pont colour.

Today was no different either as she opens her locker first thing in the evening to find another red letter with her name on it, written in such elegant cursive fashion, the fifth one in the past three weeks.

 _Do you know that Purgatory has the best milkshakes in town? I'll take a guess and assume from those pretty lips that strawberry is your favourite flavour. Care to correct me on that later, sweetheart?_

 _Love,_

 _S_

Du Pont's and their excessive flattery and use of buttery nicknames.

Naturally, she crumples the paper immediately and stashes it away in a small secret canister where four other crumpled red letters have been hastily discarded to. Make no mistake, she would've thrown it in a real garbage bin if there weren't so much snooping in campus. Having the whole school find out that she's been receiving secret 'annoying waste of ink written in annoying red coloured letters' from a Du Pont, no less, is a rumour she doesn't want to ever spread. That would be the very definition of the end of the world. So for now, she keeps them in her locker where no one would even dare touch unless you want your fingers chopped off.

As for the reply to those 'letters', Aubrey chooses the option to ignore all of it. As a matter of fact, she would then continue to ignore them for the rest of the year until she finds her dear cousin, Chloe, wiping away tears. Tears that are rare to see on the bubbliest and warmest Vanderbilt. One Chloe Beale crying is an extremely serious thing and requires immediate attention because that's just not right. But when Aubrey notices the rip on the collar of Chloe's shirt, warning bells start going off in her head and she's suddenly burning with rage.

Chloe is the most loved Vanderbilt. Hating her and purposely doing her harm only means that, that person is only made out of pure evil, a deranged psychopath, a murderer hired to kill without any moral compass, a soulless, heartless being who had not been given any hugs when they were little for the very reason that there is just absolutely nothing to hate about the most friendliest redhead. Chloe is the kind of girl that always wins by popularity vote and she does, if you take a minute to stare at the awards hanging up the Beale estate. Not to mention, there's a certain charm that the redhead possesses that has made her good at disarming people with just one smile.

And like the angel that she is, Chloe proceeds to hide her sadness with the assurance that there's nothing to worry about and continues to ask Aubrey how her day was. But then Aubrey isn't willing to let it go so she dives straight to the point. This is a serious matter and somebody needs to pay. Nobody messes with her family and walks away unscathed.

"Who did this?"

The deadly tone in her voice is enough to catch Scott's attention as he passes by Chloe's room.

"What's wrong?" he asks and as soon as he rips off his headphones from his ears, Aubrey quickly replies, eyes never leaving Chloe.

"Some barbarian with a brain smaller than a pea had made the mistake of having wronged our cousin,"

Her words finally snapped something inside Chloe because those big baby blues quickly look up at her in alarm.

"No, she's not—it's not like that," the broken reply comes and Aubrey's fingers twitch at the small slip up.

For fear of having Chloe shut them out again, she lets it slide and listens silently instead.

Pulling Scott inside the room, Chloe closes her door for fear of any eavesdroppers before facing both of the curious and worried looks on their faces. She lets out a shaky breath and Aubrey braces herself for a huge revelation only to be disappointed when Chloe ends up giving them something vague instead.

"It's my fault. I'm the only one to blame for this. I did something wrong, something unforgivable, to someone who… trusted me,"

Of course both she and Scott follow it up with a million questions along the lines of something like, 'Is someone harassing you?' and 'Are you being threatened to do things?' but Chloe proceeds to keep giving answers they wouldn't be able to understand without the proper context.

"No," their cousin sniffs, tears forming at the corner of her eyes as she looks down the floor like her whole life had been ruined all in a second. "Like I said, it's my fault. I ended something beautiful. I destroyed something so pure. And now I will regret it for the rest of my life. But I deserve it,"

The tears begin to fall and Aubrey feels so helpless. She hated it because what else could she do at this point. Especially when Chloe starts pleading at them.

"Please don't tell anyone. Just, please,"

Aubrey meets Scott's uncertain look. Both of them filled with confusion and worry. This was so heavy to carry in secrecy yet loyalty is strong in their bloodline and Aubrey, no matter how helpless she feels, would certainly carry it to the grave if she must.

However, it doesn't mean that she wouldn't get straight to the bottom of this. Whether Chloe likes it or not, she's going to find out who is responsible for this and _fix_ the problem. Nobody can blame her, really, Aubrey is all about tackling the issue in a smart way and being smart means shutting her mouth for the meantime until she proves her theory.

Her theory actually starts with a name but without evidence through some secret investigation to back it up then it's all that is, a theory. Aubrey's not blind, she observes things that people would just usually let pass and she's definitely observed a couple of strange things regarding her cousin ever since the start of the school year. They were all small things but that's where it all starts, right? From something small like a simple _glance_.

There's one way to prove her theory and it would require her to drop into drastic measures like lowering herself down one level. Doing that would mean breaking every rule in her rule book but what choice does she have?

So, on a beautiful Friday night, Aubrey trades in her precious bed, warm soothing tea and calming essential oils for a one loud, suffocating trip to a private party downtown. The one place she knows the person she seeks will be. At least, that what the 'annoying waste of ink written in annoying red coloured letter' reads.

 _I know you can dance but cheerleading choreography isn't as fun as carefree dancing. Dance with me, darling. I promise, I'm not that bad on my feet. If you change your mind, you know where to find me._

 _Love,_

 _S_

Sighing, Aubrey walks up to the huge private residence. The scent of human blood wafts all over the place and she frowns at the fact that Stacie attends human parties. It's not really a bad thing but it's risky to make friends with one given the nature of their kind. It won't be long until they start asking why the only time they see you is when the sun comes down, among many other inconsistencies like say, the extreme fascination with human veins— _Can I touch your jugular vein? It's just so, so pretty._

Approaching the gate, a man greets her. He is huge like those bouncers guarding a club and has that eagle like eyes that scrutinize you from head to toe. Donned in all expensive signature clothing and an air of aristocracy, Aubrey gets the much more polite greeting in contrast to those who seemed to try too hard to fit in and impress people.

"Name, please,"

The words start making her stress levels spike up because honestly, nobody really asks her that. When a Posen walks in any occasion, such nonsense things are never asked of her. But this is human territory and despite pure elite blood running through her veins, she isn't exactly famous in this world—with the exception of Italy as the Posens are hugely recognized for being such an affluent family just as the Du Ponts are in France.

"Aubrey Posen. But actually, I'm not—" she struggles to say, pausing as she prepares herself to speak the words she has never uttered in one sentence all together.

"I'm… not really invited. My, uhm, _friend_ is in this party and I really need to see her. It's an emergency,"

She feels like being choked and burned at the same time but she manages to say it, all the while anxiously glancing at the invisible line between her and the guy.

If there was one thing humans got right about them, it's the fact that vampires have to be invited before stepping inside human private property otherwise you just… cannot enter. Nothing extreme really happens to them if they do enter without being welcomed but for some reason if in case, a situation happens where they are forced inside without any welcoming it causes them extreme uneasiness, anxious nail biting, excessive nervous sweating and heart palpitations that just makes them want to run back outside.

At this point, she's already questioning herself as to just how much she cares about her cousin to sacrifice her own well-being by manipulating security and forcing her way inside—a very easy feat if not for the place being private property—when her desperate thoughts of 'plan B' is cut short.

"Ms. Posen, you can enter. You're name is on the list," the security says as he steps aside to let her pass.

 _Oh?_

Gathering herself from the initial shock, she tentatively takes one step inside, ultimately crossing what was once the forbidden line in the process. Exhaling in relief, she then clears her throat and mutters a soft, 'Thank you' before continuing on inside.

The party scene isn't entirely foreign to her. Aubrey had attended almost every sort of social gathering. From huge celebrations like weddings to small friends' birthday parties, she's no stranger to the night life—both literally and figuratively. She's even been to a club, well, snuck into one with Chloe nonetheless.

But to be honest, it's not really her scene. Usually, it's Chloe who begs her to attend the _wilder_ parties and those damn, big blue eyes staring at her pleadingly are to blame. Unlike Chloe who shines in any social occasion with all that unlimited energy for socializing, Aubrey would rather just go to a quiet little corner and enjoy her mocktails in peace.

However, now is not the time to shy off into a corner as she walks through the center of bodies dancing happily without a care in the world, eyes scanning the whole place until it finally lands contact on a pair of amused forest green eyes.

Stacie Conrad pauses at the sight of her, possibly a mixture of surprise and disbelief, not wasting even a second as she ditches the guy she's been getting closely acquainted with. Desperate calls for her name are ignored as she walks towards Aubrey's direction, her eyes never leaving hers like a predator securing its prey. Aubrey, again strangely finds it hard to look away.

When Stacie reaches her, there's a small smile on her lips that makes Aubrey's stomach flip and before she could even utter a word she feels a soft warm hand wrapping around her wrist.

Her mind struggles to catch up and when it does, she finds herself at a less crowded area near the pool, far from sweaty bodies and alcohol breaths. Stacie gracefully whirls around to face her and finally Aubrey finds her ability to speak.

"Look, I'm not here to shake my hips to a poorly remixed song that is just loud enough to make my eardrums burst. I have something important to talk to you about," she begins to say, her voice straining to be heard above the music. Which is quite ironic considering that vampires have superior hearing and can easily communicate with each other from across the room. Still, it's basic instinct to yell over loud music.

However, if she expected to initially not be taken seriously, then she's absolutely right because Stacie ignores her words and starts dancing in front of her.

She tries to protest but her words stay stuck in her throat when the Du Pont steps closer, their bodies now only inches apart. Instinctively, Aubrey inhales sharply at the sudden close proximity, lungs filled with Stacie's intoxicating perfume.

 _Damn the French and their amazing perfumes._

"What? Can't you Vanderbilts dance for fun? Is that something we Du Ponts beat you at?" Stacie teasingly says in a tone that makes the hair at the back of her neck rise. But seemingly, it wasn't quite enough to the Du Pont as she moves even closer to Aubrey. Lips ghosting over the shell of her ear.

"Like so many other things," she slowly whispers before abruptly pulling away with a smirk and walking away like nothing happened.

Aubrey blinks rapidly, her heart racing uncontrollably like never before and again that unexplainable feeling at the pit of her stomach as if someone had been twisting her insides. Watching the Du Ponts retreating form, it has occurred to her that never in her life has she ever felt so unsure.

A Posen always has control. Not this. She dictates how things would turn out and how it should be.

Stacie Conrad is challenging that.

And a Vanderbilt _never_ backs out from a challenge.

Something flickers in the back of her mind and for a moment, all her thoughts go blank, her body moving on instinct as she takes off her coat, mindlessly leaving it draped over one of the sofa seats as she confidently takes one step after another, retracing the trail Stacie has left.

Her hand reaches out until her fingers curve around Stacie's inner elbow, her grip firm yet careful not to inflict any pain. When the Du Pont turns to her, surprise mildly evident in her eyes, Aubrey pulls her close, sea green eyes locked on to forest green. There's no resistance and in a second that same perfume scent fills her lungs yet again.

"You want to see me dance?" she asks in a low challenging tone before completely closing any space between them. "Then let's dance," she says as she wraps an arm around the brunette's waist, fingers tracing over smooth skin when her lips brush over Stacie's ear.

"But then I'm afraid that you'd never find a better dance partner after this," she whispers as her hand finds Stacie's. When she takes a step back, she twirls the brunette around and when they connect back again like magnet, Aubrey's front against Stacie's back, their hands still linked together as Aubrey's arm wraps over Stacie's chest, they sway in perfect rhythm to a beat of their own.

The minutes turn to hours, Stacie's arms now wrapped around her neck, fingers tangled around her blonde locks while her own fingers run over smooth skin. There's a lazy smile on both their faces yet they don't talk about it. Nor do they talk about how nothing else seem to matter right at that moment.

And maybe Aubrey deems this is where her mistake happened first.

She must've known then. Must have been smarter than that but she wasn't. All of that power for control and bloodline rivalry lost as Stacie's leans her forehead against hers. Thoughts of her carefully planned night gone as the Du Pont's eyes slip down her lips. Thoughts of Chloe and her theories regarding Stacie's evil cousin fading far away as her own eyes fall down luscious slightly parted lips. Soft lips that lightly press against hers.

She really should've known better.

Before it was all too late.

 _Too late to stop._

"Can I… kiss you again?" Stacie asks ever so softly, lips inches from hers and there's something vulnerable in those eyes as if there was that fear of her rejection. Their dancing has toned down to the slightest swaying and without even thinking, Aubrey slowly pulls the Du Pont closer, lips finding its way back home to equally soft lips. This time there's hunger in this kiss like it had been building up for so long, desperate for release.

She never thought anything of it then but in the end, Aubrey's fear had come true.

She's fallen into a trap she herself laid out.

Aubrey Posen has gone crazy.

* * *

 _It's not strawberry._ _You taste like cherries just like my name. I like that. We need to talk or if you don't feel like it then maybe… you might like to dance with me again? Tomorrow night by the fountain._

 _Love,_

 _Your favorite dance partner_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Cerise is cherry in French.**

 **Staubrey, anyone? Yes? A million times yes?**

 **When Stacie falls in love she says she doesn't half-ass things. Guess it's true after all. I mean making all those annoying waste of ink written on annoying red letters for almost a year without a single reply? The girl is willing to wait for as long as it takes. Damn. I want a Stacie Conrad.**

 **To be honest though, Aubrey never told her to stop. Keeping all those annoying waste of ink written on annoying red letters instead of burning them? I mean there's that option too, Aubrey! But then a rewarding special dance after a year of courtship was her answer. Old fashioned romantic indeed, Posen. Damn. I want an Aubrey Posen too.**

 **And that adds up to our list of secret Vanderbilt-Du Pont love affairs.**

 **Part 2 is going to be quite interesting.**

Also, Aubrey can be a very good detective. Her theory about Chloe's secret is so on point. Like, Beca would be there checking every box on Aubrey's checklist in awe. Deranged psychopath? Check. Murderer that is hired to kill? Check. Not enough hugs when she was a child? Check. I mean, looking back on Chloe's deliciously baked cookies: 'Y u so evil. U need hugs'. Check. Check. Check. Looking back, Bechloe has come a long way. Now they are getting married!

 **Hang tight, loves. We're getting near the end and I'm giving everything my brain cells can produce to get it done perfectly. Thus, the very long gap between chapters. Apologies. I'm doing only the best for my Bechloe.**


	28. WhenYouKnowDownInsideThatIreallydo

**Chapter 27**

 **Part2**

* * *

Anastacia Cerise Conrad usually had peaceful lazy early evenings. Being the first to wake up, a fact nobody outside their family would ever believe, she's always considered these short moments of silence a blessing since being in the Du Pont household, and any Du Pont knows this well, ultimately means that peace isn't a word that is common in a manor full of noisy young Du Ponts. Which was why she's volunteered having to cook early in the evening as her main house chore—the most hated task in the household. None of that door banging, stuff clattering on floor or loud voices enough to wake up any sleeping vampires within vampire hearing range.

Now the problem was, said door banging, stuff clattering and loud voices growling in anger is currently happening, waking her up minutes before her phone's alarm clock. It doesn't even help that she's got this raging headache brewing in her head right now.

Exhaling heavily, she gets up wearily with the goal of giving a piece of her mind to the destroyer of her much anticipated peaceful early evenings, who somehow awfully sounds a lot like her cousin, Beca—who also happens to be the vampire who holds the most authority over all of them in the whole world. Sometimes, Stacie takes pleasure in bullying the Queen because when will anyone ever?

Stretching, shuffling and fumbling around, for once not caring about how she looks like shit, she finally gets up to head out to the source of the noise, praying that Beca and her fiancée, Chloe, a former Vanderbilt and now one of the people close to Stacie's heart, aren't having hot angry sex upstairs because it'll only make her jealous and really pissed that other than the fact that her precious sleep had been disturbed, she doesn't have someone to do that with.

Well, there is _someone_ in mind but that's… complicated.

Sighing as she reaches the top of the stairs, Stacie finds her sister and Emily standing in front of their room looking as confused as her. Both girls are also fresh from sleep, sleep which had been obviously disturbed just like hers. Looking over to the other side at Beca and Chloe's room, the door is widely opened as if a storm has barged in, wreaked havoc and left a huge mess. Next to it is Beca's office where the loud angry yelling is coming from and if anyone knows Beca, that voice and tone is usually reserved for when something or someone threatens to hurt Chloe—good luck to whoever it is.

After motioning the girls to get back inside and try to not to worry about anything, she walks over to the room just as she hears some stumbling downstairs where the Swanson brothers are also just starting to wake up and wonder about the noise. Shaking her head, she enters to find Chloe pacing near the window, the encrusted red diamonds of her engagement ring glimmering every time she moves her hands.

"Thank god, it's not angry sex," she mumbles in greeting but one look at Chloe's serious face, she drops the light tone. "Okay, just angry then. Sorry, what happened? Are you guys having a fight? Which one of you do I have to slap?" she says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"The council," Chloe's dead-pan answer comes and it strongly makes her think of how huge Beca's influence over her has become because that's a very Beca-like answer. She's even got the tone and deadly look right—although that icy glare is admittedly a very Vanderbilt trait.

Anyways, never piss Chloe Beale off.

If the situation wasn't so serious this would be the part where she gushes about how she and Beca are so meant to be together but instead she goes for something like, "Well, that's a lot of people and my palms aren't built for so much slapping but I can make an exception. Now, before I go on a suicidal coup d'état I need some context, Beale,"

Chloe completely stops pacing at this and nods her head over to the discarded letter at the foot of the bed. From where she is standing, she could already make out the council's seal and her gut tells her that this isn't something she'd like.

Tentatively, Stacie takes the letter and reads it quietly. The more her eyes go over the words, the deeper the frown on her face becomes until she feels like crumpling the paper into a ball and burning it into the pits of hell.

"This is bullshit!" she almost screams and Chloe goes back to her pacing.

Reading the letter over and over again to be sure that her eyes aren't deceiving her, in the end she throws the offensive object and lets out a string of French curses.

"They can't do this!" Stacie finally says, facing the redhead who has finally plopped down the sofa, head in her hands.

"You and Beca are engaged! Beca chose you! Why are they giving her shit for it just because—"

"I'm a non-elite who was disowned by my own bloodline and therefore an outcast which they absolutely think is a complete disgrace to the crown? That even if I'm Beca's soulmate, I won't be recognized as her Queen and so, if they want Beca to marry someone else to form a stronger alliance and have a _suitable_ Queen everyone can look up to then we can't do anything about it? That the only way to be with her is to allow myself to be the secret love affair, the Queen's mistress," Chloe completes for her, there's hurt and sadness in her eyes despite the sarcasm in her tone and Stacie shakes her head in disbelief at how horrible the thought is.

People who always get in the way of love are what Stacie despises the most. She strongly believes that love always wins.

 _But does it, really? In all circumstances?_

"But Beca's already declared you as hers. She's already displayed you out to the society. You stood by her side in every god damn occasion, for crying out loud!" she protests. "And you even have a title now. You're the Queen's most beloved! Why are they so bitter about it all of a sudden?"

This time Chloe looks away, a hand running through her wavy red locks, before answering her in a softer tone, "Because nobody dared go against it until… it was brought up,"

Chloe's words falter and Stacie already has a bad feeling about how this is turning out. It's bad, she knows, especially now when whispers of Beca's reign strengthening and the majority of the council wanting her to stay seated at the throne even after the mandatory two years.

"Who… who brought it up, Chlo?"

When the redhead looks back at her, those bright blue eyes couldn't hide its sorrow and it's heartbreaking to watch.

Aubrey was right.

A devastated Chloe Beale is hard to watch.

"Who else, Stace? My own blood of course," she simply says before Stacie crosses the distance to hug her.

In her arms, it only takes seconds for Chloe to break down into sobs. "Beca is my soulmate, Stace. She's my love. We're in love. Why can't I just be with her without any of these stupid people telling us that being together is wrong? Loving someone is not wrong, no matter who you are or who they may be. Love is love."

 _Love is love._

Stacie silently wipes her own tears because she knows.

She knows how much it sucks. To want something as simple as that but at the same time is deemed as something wrong for her to have just because it's not right for everyone else.

It's madness.

 _Yet also the truth._

It doesn't take long until she feels a presence behind her. When she turns her head to the source, she finds Beca standing by the doorway. Clearly aware, even from the other room, that Chloe is extremely upset and so, has dropped everything to make her way back to her. She walks over to them and Chloe quickly latches on to her the second she is close enough to do so.

"Your mine and I'm yours. That's it. Period," she hears Beca whisper in Chloe's ear. There's a few muffled words from the redhead which are quickly dismissed by Beca as she continues to tightly hug her fiancée in her arms.

"I will marry you and no one else. You are my Queen, Chloe. I will kill _anyone_ who tries to tell you otherwise and disrespect you, okay?"

It's the most gentle she has ever seen her cousin become and because of that Stacie quietly slips out to give them some privacy. Closing the door behind her with the last image of Beca planting soft kisses at the side of Chloe's head, she makes her way downstairs, passing by her worried looking cousins and shaking her head at their questioning looks before returning back to her room.

She pauses for a while, rubbing her fingers as the wheels in her head start to turn. She needs to do something, say something to be exact.

The room suddenly feels suffocating.

After what has happened, the problems constantly assaulting her head seem so small. It's surely an eye-opener and now she's come to some sort of conclusion. _Sort of._ So she distractedly moves around, dressing up from her sleep clothes to something appropriate to wear out early in the evening.

Making her way outside, she ignores her cousins growing questions and proceeds to leave the house with only one destination in mind. Her heart grows heavy with each step but she keeps going, never breaking in speed as she finally comes close.

When she steps inside, she breathes in the familiar scent that had always brought her comfort no matter how worse her situation has been. But at the same time, there's that heaviness that has gotten too much to bear. So much that she falls to her knees next to the bed, her breathing labored and her vision blurring from the emotions trying to burst out of her chest. Her hands grip the sheets for support even though it doesn't really help.

There's a soft stir in the bed followed by an equally soft gasp. It takes almost half a minute until she feels a soft hand cautiously reaching out to her own. The contact makes her release the soft fabric in her fingers and replace it with smooth warm hands.

"Stace," Aubrey's gentle voice breaks her internal turmoil as she looks up to find those sea green eyes she's adored the most. That very pair of eyes that don't compare the countless flings and short lived but intense love affairs.

Nothing could ever be comforting as that.

And that's the sad part about it, _nothing ever will._

"I'm sorry, I woke you up," she manages to say after a moment. "You know how adorably _annoying_ I could get. It's part of my charm," she adds in jest but the smile she carries with it doesn't reach her eyes. Nor does it reaches Aubrey's.

"It's okay but..." the Vanderbilt glances at her door and Stacie is quick to recognize the concern.

"I won't stay long. I just needed to see you," she quickly says and with that she wipes away a lone tear rolling down her cheeks. Focusing on getting herself together, she inhales and exhales deeply as she slowly stands up, reluctantly letting go of the Vanderbilt's hand.

"I need to tell you something. Don't worry, I'll be quick," she says while Aubrey gets up from her bed to face her, arms crossed in front of her chest just like the first time they ever spoke to each other. It's awkward and their last conversation is to blame for it.

Despite that, she still can't help but think that it's so unfair how beautiful Aubrey Posen is even as she had just gotten out of bed. Stacie couldn't count the times she would stare at the Vanderbilt's face as she starts to wake up. It's a blessing, she knows very well, that she's been given to experience at least even for a short period of time.

 _Something special, that's what it was, now she knows._

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean all those things I said," she begins to say before the memories start consuming her mind and distract her from saying what she had to say. "I understand where you're coming from," she swallows hard, determined to finish what she had started.

"Maybe not completely but I get it," she says and it feels like shards of glass passing through her throat.

"And that is why, I'm here to tell you that this is it. You and me, this is the end. I'm going to stop now," she pauses to control the sobs that long to break out of her chest. She pushes them all down.

"But if," she pauses once more as her eyes start to sting with the incoming flood she keeps trying to blink away. "But if one day, a couple of months, years, a century perhaps in some unexplainable reason or whatever, that you decide to maybe even just look back… if you change your mind," she had to let a small smile at that because of the countless times she's said those last few words to Aubrey, be it in letter or in person.

 _If you change your mind_

"I'll be right here, where you left me, waiting,"

Her tears break out and she almost loses it but she fights through. Putting a hand up when Aubrey softly calls her name. She's going to make it to the end.

"I love you," she blurts out desperately and sincerely. She never intended to sputter it out like her life depended on it but her emotions were too strong at the moment.

She had no control of it.

 _Her heart decided it from the beginning._

"Goodbye, Aubrey,"

 _How did it all end up this way?_

* * *

"Have you been in love at all?"

It's a question that Stacie bluntly asks the Vanderbilt as they stand in a corner of the hallway. What's the point of being subtle anyway? There is a group of killers hunting them all, Beca is nowhere to be found and now they are cooperating with the Vanderbilts by hiding in some cheap motel, hoping to survive this apocalyptic nightmare through scheduled shifts in case of danger.

So, if this was the end then why not just get to the point?

"And why does it matter if I have or have not?" Aubrey replies and there's a defensive tone that's already enough for Stacie to get her answer.

Of course she decides to tease, it's what gets their banter going and maybe there's just a part of her that likes it, the push and pull, that tension between them, that moment just like the one a couple of years ago at a private party where she finds out that _cherry_ is can be a very intoxicating flavor.

"Guys?" Emily's voice cuts the moment short and Stacie's world spins back into its normal pace. Aubrey's hand harshly slips away from her grasp and somehow she doesn't like how that feels.

Bringing her focus elsewhere, she looks over at her cousin and the Vanderbilt boy next to her. To hell with ancient rivalries, Stacie already supports the union. They look good together and there's palpable chemistry so why not? And take note, in contrast to her inability to enter a healthy relationship—or find a person who doesn't end up being too toxic—Stacie never fails when it comes to matchmaking. Sometimes, she would just take one look and know that two people are meant to be. It's one of her most amazing skills. Maybe she really is Aphrodite's problematic child.

So when she deems Emily and Scott a match made in heaven then they are.

But that _project_ has to be put on hold for now because her favorite dance partner is walking away.

"You two should go get some sleep," she says in finality to the potential lovebirds before walking off to the direction where Aubrey literally speed walked to.

Reaching the stairs, she proceeds down towards the landing before sitting on the bottom of the steps as she eyes the blonde Vanderbilt who has chosen to stand and lean by the wall.

"You know, two hours staring at each other is a waste," she begins with a smirk—because she likes to believe that it definitely affects Aubrey.

"Shut up,"

"Still very feisty, I see. How adorable," she comments fondly. This finally makes Aubrey turn to look at her.

"And you're still very annoying,"

This elicits a chuckle out of her, not bothering to correct her. When her smile fades she replies in a rather slightly serious tone, "Is that why you didn't show up that night? Because I was annoying?"

Aubrey seems to stiffen at the questions for a few seconds, a reaction worth noting, before she masks it completely.

"And is that why you stopped writing your little love letters?" she throws right back at her before realizing the implication of her words when she sees the sudden amusement in Stacie's face. So she quickly adds, "Which is a relief, by the way,"

But it's hard to let that slide now and this time Stacie earns a point. In her defense though, Aubrey moved to college in a different state and sending letters would be quite inconvenient, especially when most of the time they are letters of invitations to hang out. Besides, there are too many gossip mongers lurking around and seeing a letter addressed to a Vanderbilt from a Du Pont is like fireworks in the sky. Tongues will be wagging.

"Is it? Maybe I should send you letters again. I mean, I earned a dance for it and something more," she slowly utters and enjoys the look in Aubrey's face.

That gets the Vanderbilt to pull away from her spot to get closer to her—another point to Conrad.

"Alright, that was one time!" Aubrey hisses in low voice while the smile on Stacie's face grows. "I thought we mentally agreed never to speak of this again?"

"Did we? 'Cause I don't think I want to never speak of such a beautiful memory again," she replies mockingly before standing up to level Aubrey's glare.

"Oh but I do," is the immediate answer she gets.

"You wound me, Aubrey. I thought we really had a great time," she dramatically replies yet somehow there's a small sting deep at the center of her chest.

"Then I apologize if I ever offended you!" Aubrey says in the same tone and suddenly it only occurs to Stacie that their current position seemed a little too… close. Standing only inches apart and breathing heavily at each other's faces, she almost forgot how pretty Aubrey's eyes were up close.

Eyes that are now blinking back at her as the tension fizzles down and the awareness of their close proximity grows.

The Vanderbilt clears her throat, "I'm not doing this with you. It's a _waste_ of time," she decides before stepping back to her corner.

Shifting her weight from one foot to another, Stacie takes a few small steps before circling back around, mind deep in thought. In a moment, she starts to hum because it's only been ten minutes since the start of their two hour shift and boredom is her greatest enemy.

Her head starts nodding to the melody, her fingers snapping to the beat until she meets curious eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Dance with me,"

Aubrey rolls her eyes and sighs, "I don't dance without music. That's stupid,"

Challenge accepted.

" _I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back_ ," she starts to sing, lightly swaying as she steps closer, lessening the distance between them.

"No," Aubrey says in a warning tone, shaking her head.

" _We were sitting down in a restaurant waiting for the check,"_

Closer.

"Okay, you are crazy and I'm not going to partake in whatever that is,"

" _We had made love earlier that day with no strings attached_ "

"Yeah, nice try but no,"

" _But I could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then,"_

She gets hold of Aubrey's hand and gently tugs her away from the wall and towards her.

"You're not going to stop, are you?" the Vanderbilt groans as Stacie slowly shakes her head, a smile playing on her lips.

It's the end of the world anyway. Might as well dance when there's still time. At least, one more wonderful memory before the final curtain drops? So she holds Aubrey close, gently swaying her with their fingers intertwined as she softly sings.

" _Kristen, come right back. I've been waiting for you. To slip back in bed when you light the candle,"_

Having given up, she feels Aubrey rest her head on her shoulders.

" _And on the Lower East Side, you're dancing with me now. And I'm taking pictures of you with flowers on the wall,"_

She buries her nose on Aubrey's hair and inhales that sweet calming scent.

" _Think I like you best when you're dressed in black from head to toe. Think I like you best when you're just with me and no one else,_ "

She pulls her even closer until the space between ceases to exist. Closing her eyes, she just continues to float away.

And they don't talk about that, how good it feels or how perfect they fit together. How comforting it feels and how a part of her missed _this_.

They don't talk about those things.

They can't bring themselves to do so.

" _Stay with me, I don't want you to leave_ "

* * *

Beca is dead.

That's what they've been told, that their cousin has died along with her half-brother Stefan Sala after fighting against each other at the Corvinn Castle.

There was even a video footage of it, the video which they had to plead at their uncle Ivan for them to see.

Somehow, she now wishes she hadn't watched it at all.

Stacie was never close with Stefan. She'd only seen him a few times in huge family gatherings and barely had any interaction with him. Besides, he doesn't seem like he wanted to socialize as he hangs at the back with his whiskey and cigarettes. Well, he didn't seem to want to socialize with everyone except for his little sister, Beca, who at that time kept running excitedly back to him.

And now they are both gone after battling each other in one hell of a battle at the Corvinn Castle.

Gone forever.

Stacie's never experienced such a concept and felt so much about it. Usually it was just old distant relatives or great grandparents but none of that was much of an impact as this. Those deaths were natural. It was their time.

For Beca, it wasn't.

And now the sun has risen up, everyone is probably asleep yet sleep seems so far away for her. Earlier, she had ran off from the madness happening in the control room. It's like everyone just didn't know if they are going to celebrate their victory or mourn those who they've lost. Nobody exactly knows how things like this work. This wasn't the medieval times where war was normal and death was rampant.

So here she was, dealing with it through isolation.

And wine which she had stolen from the kitchen.

There was a lot of places to be alone in such a huge building, given that only the elite bloodlines, staff, security and members of the council have evacuated in it.

One of those places happened to be what seemed to be an empty guest's room. Choosing to keep the lights off, the visible glow of the sun from behind the curtain blinds seeps into the smallest cracks.

Taking a sip from the bottle of wine, she hears movement from outside but instead she remains detached from the world, not really bothering to care whoever it may be. At least, until that someone is snatching the bottle of wine out of her grasp then they can burn at the glare she will be throwing.

Only, she couldn't bring herself to glare at this person.

"Your sister is looking for you," Aubrey tells her and surprisingly there's gentleness in her usually snappy tone. Given the circumstances, it's not really surprising why but still, it was refreshing to hear.

It makes Stacie feel bad for unconsciously thanking Beca for giving her this opportunity.

Shaking the thought away, she sighs, "Can I have my wine back?"

"No, you can have it after you get some sleep upstairs. Your sister is worried,"

She stays silent at that, eyes looking out into nothing before she slowly shakes her head, "I can't,"

"Stacie," Aubrey softly says and it's the softest she has ever heard the Vanderbilt say her name.

"Beca told me that Emily wouldn't know what to do in case something happens to her and," she pauses, closing her eyes at the memory of her cousin before opening her eyes again, her vision now blurry yet she looks up to the Vanderbilt.

"I didn't really took it seriously when she said that it had to be me. I had to make sure she would have the strength to lead," she continues before letting out a light laugh as she remembers Beca's exact words.

"She told me that, 'Emily needs to lean on to someone and you have to be that someone because somehow, you always know what to say at the worst times. You can put the twins in their place, inspire Stella and console Jesse. You have the strongest heart because it keeps giving no matter how many people keep breaking it. You are the most Du Pont of all the Du Ponts that I think you deserve the high seat than me'," her voice wavers and her eyes start to sting from the incoming tears.

She blinks and they drop one by one yet she doesn't look away from Aubrey, "I can't go out there like this, Aubrey. I'm not ready to do all that yet," a sob breaks out of her before she inhales deeply. "Just give me another hour then I'll be fine,"

The sofa dips and when she looks up again, Aubrey's sitting next to her, looking at the bottle of wine before taking a sip and then passing it back to her. Taking the bottle, she takes a huge gulp of it as the silence stretches.

They stay like that for a while until Aubrey finally speaks up, "She's right,"

Furrowing her brows, she stares at the Vanderbilt in confusion. Meeting her questioning look, the blonde continues.

"Beca. She's right about you," she clarifies before quickly adding, "And this is probably the only thing that she and I will ever agree on but yeah I see what she meant. Everyone thinks that being strong means conquering castles and being physically unbeatable but that's not really what it's all about. You're strong because you don't break apart when everyone else does and even if you do, you still hold everything together as much as you can. It's almost impossible," she whispers the last words and suddenly Stacie feels warmth.

It almost brings a proper smile to her face.

"I know how exhausting that could be," Aubrey continues. "I understand," And she really does because Stacie feels like crumbling but she doesn't allow herself to do so.

There it is again, that feeling that only comes whenever the blonde was near. Two years ago she considered it a temporary occurrence, a fluttering feeling due to the thrill of challenging the other. But right at this moment, countless romantic flings and a series of serious relationships later, she thinks that it's a feeling that only Aubrey Posen can evoke.

 _It's still there._

"Take your time," the Vanderbilt tells her before moving to leave and immediately, Stacie's chest fills up with panic and distress. She doesn't know why but it suddenly scared her, to be left alone.

Instinctively, she quickly reaches for Aubrey's hand without a thought to it. When the Vanderbilt turns to her, she slowly gets up on her feet. Her hands move and it feels like she's in some sort of spell as she gently tucks a strand of blonde hair at the back of Aubrey's ear. The Vanderbilt doesn't even flinch, she doesn't move and maybe she's under the same spell she's in too. Those beautiful sea green eyes looking back at her with something she can't place and Stacie thinks of how much she just wants to drown in them.

Her fingers linger at the side of Aubrey's face before she steps forward to close the gap between them, her lips softly locking with Aubrey's. She pulls the Vanderbilt close, tightly wrapping her arms around her so there's no room for escape. It's not necessary but she does it anyway. It takes a few more seconds before Aubrey's lips move against her own, soft hands desperately clinging on to her and everything else just fades away.

That's exactly when Stacie realizes that after all these years, cherry is still her favorite flavor.

 _That's exactly when she realizes that it's the only flavor she wants to taste from now on._

But they don't talk about that.

* * *

Beca is alive.

Stacie should be mad but she can't bring herself to do so. Not when she breathes in the sweet scent of peaches and honey first thing in the early evening. When she opens her eyes the first thing she sees is blonde hair all over her shoulder bringing her lips to curve into a satisfied smile.

There's an arm draped over her waist and her hands lazily trace every inch of skin as if her brain was internally keeping the feeling of it into memory. Her fingers continue to sinfully run slowly, now creating small circles at the expanse of smooth skin at her bedmate's lower back.

The motion finally evokes a response as her companion stirs in her arms until she feels soft lips tenderly brushing against her collarbones. They travel upwards to the crook of her neck and Stacie's smile widens. Lips brush softly on her jaw and her eyes flutter close in pleasure. Her arms enclose on a soft warm body and her hold tightens as she dips her head down to taste her favorite flavor.

Cherry.

The moment she opens her eyes, she almost sighs out dreamily at the sight of Aubrey Posen waking up next to her in the middle of twisted sheets, hair still immaculate as ever even after how many times her hands have wildly run through it hours ago. She's devastatingly beautiful, even more so when there's a smile on those lips.

A smile Stacie has caused.

And the best part is, it's just one of the few things she's caused.

When her eyes wander down the smooth skin on the curve of the Vanderbilt's neck, she frowns when she finds her little love bites disappearing almost completely and mentally curses at vampire healing genes because Stacie is an artist and that's art, _her_ art to be exact and she's dead serious when it comes to anything she creates from her very lips.

So she doesn't waste time re-creating it much to Aubrey's dismay—because she's going to have to cover that up again and therefore, end up almost being late for her class. But Stacie doesn't care, she likes doing it knowing that it earns her that seductive breathy moan and her name spilling ever so softly in between those lips.

And maybe she likes the fact that on Aubrey's skin, there's a part of her that stays. That wherever the blonde goes, underneath all that expensive clothing and make-up, Stacie has left an imprint. One that screams _mine._

But that's the problem, she isn't and also the fact that this was supposed to be some casual thing, as they've agreed upon after the first time.

Stacie is fucked because she's done casual, quite a number of times actually, and this… this isn't casual.

It's not when the first thing she thinks of doing on a bad day is run to Aubrey's side and stay there until it doesn't feel bad anymore. It's not when Stacie doesn't leave the bed like a thief after hours of pleasure and instead stays to hold the blonde tightly against her until the moon shines up above. It's not when at some point they end up just sleeping next to each other after sharing a meal, contemplating about their class subjects and debating about what movie to watch. It's not when Aubrey's defensive walls crack only in front of her and she's crying in Stacie's arms due to the enormous amount of pressure she's carrying because she's a Posen under the Vanderbilt bloodline and Vanderbilts are expected to be perfect.

Aubrey is already perfect.

Stacie is willing to wage war just to prove that point.

But they don't talk about all that because it's just supposed to be a casual hookup and those things are temporary.

They don't talk about how Aubrey frantically calls Stacie to tell her that Thomas Vanderbilt is a monster and Chloe is his victim, and it's big because Vanderbilts keep family problems to themselves. Their image will always be pristine and information like this will ruin them but Aubrey calls Stacie because in a life or death situation if there was one person she can entrust her cousin with it's Stacie.

But no, they can't talk about that. They can't dissect what it all really means deep down or what they really are to each other because…

… Stacie knows she could lose Aubrey if they do.

Aubrey, the girl who she loves.

Yes, she loves her. Stacie knew she did from the moment they danced all night, high on nothing but each other until her self-control dissipates and her lips long for _cherry_. And maybe her heart has decided even before then but that night was the night she realized that there's just no one like Aubrey Posen. Because no matter how many times she attempts to try another flavor, her tongue aches to taste the very thing she's been forbidden to taste.

So she imagines that things are different, that they don't have to part in a hurry as they wake up in their secret little love nest because that's how hookups work and they can't afford to get caught. That when they are together again, Aubrey is hers and hers alone. That when they kiss it's not something temporary but permanent. That whenever Aubrey holds her in a manner that is all too possessive, that she feels the same way about her too.

 _That she loves me too._

"We… should stop,"

Those are the words that break her world apart and Stacie never knew any greater kind of heartache before this. It doesn't feel real. It feels like she's underwater and her lungs are burning as the water floods in. A slow, painful death in which no matter how desperate you get, there just seems to be no end to it.

Stacie doesn't snap. She's known to rarely be angry and has even made her parents worry due to the fact that nothing irritates her—hence, the psychiatric appointments which, to be honest, Beca needed more than she did. Having been born on Valentine's Day, ironically, the month of love, her mother had stated that unlike her sister, she was such a peaceful baby, rarely crying and quick to laugh at anything that moves.

As a matter of fact, she remembers, during her childhood, that one mean girl in class who splattered paint at her during art class only to be shocked when she started happily picking up the rest of the other colors and dumping it on her own shirt because 'it looked pretty'. Of course it sparked a 'color fight' with the rest of her classmates doing the same. Her parents were called and despite all that, she goes home with a huge smile on her face because it was fun—before asking her parents if she could splatter different colors of paint on the walls of her room. Even when she's insulted openly, she never fights back or holds grudges. Hell, she even danced through what was dubbed 'the darkest times' of their government or 'the apocalypse' as Jesse calls it.

The closest thing she ever got to snapping is when Beca "died"—which is very reasonable— and when she slapped her ex-boyfriend, Ethan Williams, when he "accidentally" cheated on her. Even then, she never wished him misfortune nor agreed to what Beca had done to him— giving him a couple of broken bones and blackmailing the principal to expel him. If she had known then what her cousin did due to pure outrage with what he did to her, none of that would've happened. He's still alive though, opposite to what everyone thinks, and they're good friends now as she is to all her former relationships.

She isn't called Aphrodite's problematic child for nothing.

The point was, Stacie's constantly calm and level-headed demeanor is an equivalent to Chloe's strong positive personality and Jesse's happy-go-lucky attitude. Together, the three of them, as Nate says, would be hell, a happy kind of hell. The one where you suffer because it's too bright and overwhelmingly cheerful all the time.

Yet…

"Why?"

That's the question she bluntly asks instead of respecting what was agreed upon. There's venom in her tone. It is laced with hurt but at this point she doesn't know which one is stronger.

"It's—Lorenzo. Enzo, my distant cousin is coming from Italy and my mother wants me to… to meet him and—"

"You mean, that's the man they want for you. The guy that you're arranged to be married to?"

It's harsh, the way she spits it out and Stacie doesn't do harsh. Something breaks inside her and suddenly all this rage keeps gushing out all at once.

"I-It's not like that—"

"Then what is it, huh?"

This time her voice spikes up like never before and she knows deep down that it's irrational, this outburst of hers, but she's lost control. Fueled by Aubrey's sudden defensive stance with the matter, she doesn't let her finish as the pain in her chest intensifies.

"No, let me tell you what this is. You're a coward. You talk about wanting to break away, about this exhausting cycle, of all these things you wish you could do but the truth is, you can do something about it! You just don't want to! And for that, you are a coward just like your mother!"

The moment the words leave her lips, the weight of what she had just done comes crashing upon her. Caterina Posen, Aubrey's mother, the woman who could arguably take Darius Du Pont's place when it comes to bad parenting. Talking about her makes everything gloomy.

So it's pretty obvious how bad of a comparison it is because truthfully, Aubrey's nothing like her mother and yet this is an example just how pain works. It's like a virus trying to spread out. It somehow makes her understand Beca's actions more, hurting people because you want them to feel what you feel, spreading your own suffering without even realizing you're doing it.

Stacie used to be better at this. She doesn't condone it. _She'd never._

But it's too late and the damage had been done. The consequences of her actions bounce back right at her and the hurt on those beautiful sea green eyes pierces right at her heart.

"And what the hell do you suggest I do? Go against my family? I'm not Chloe. I can't do what she did because unlike her, there's nothing out there for me. You think that I can just walk away and nothing happens? That I can be free?" a tear rolls down Aubrey's cheek and it feels like she's drifting away farther and farther from her.

"This is not some fictional drama that ends with happy endings just because you 'followed your heart'. I'm sorry to disappoint you but that's not how it works. Not everyone is lucky or as strong as you. Some of us have mothers like mine that teach us that love isn't meant for everyone. That all these… achievements I've worked so hard for," she pauses, lips quivering and more tears falling delicately on her face.

"Is all I have in the end,"

Rain falls that night and maybe even the goddess of love, Aphrodite herself is crying at the pain her daughter feels.

"Goodbye,"

Where did it all go wrong? She thought of everything that had led up to the moment where she sneaks in the Vanderbilt manor for the first time and finally pours out her heart to Aubrey. There are probably so many things, all connected in this really huge pile of hesitation, extremely bad timing and intense fear. Funny how she'd been called fearless yet when she falls in love like never before, fear takes over her. Fear of having to lose that love, the fear of being unable to fight for it, the fear of having to watch helplessly as it all slips away from her.

She meant it when she said she'd wait and she will. Hoping that someday, one day, she will wake up once more to peaches and honey, drowning in a sea green, trapped in warm embraces underneath twisted sheets and soft lingering _cherry_ kisses.

But if that day never comes…

Then maybe in another lifetime, in some alternate universe where bloodlines don't matter, where she's just some college sophomore auditioning for some musical group or maybe a simple radio producer, in a life where she's just Stacie and she's just Aubrey.

 _And their just happy and in love._

Until then, she lets her heart bleed and the tears fall as she clings on to those _maybes_ and _somedays_.

* * *

Author's Note:

List of facts:

Unrequited love is my signature. It ain't a redchocopanda fic without it.

Not everything ends happily- I mean Lexa and Clarke...

Alycia Debnam-Carey is my wife.

Coffee is a blessing.

I've run out of lyrics for my titles.

Damn, it's not even the weekend?!

Check out **No Rome's** single **Seventeen** because it's the reason why there's an update now-that and Lany's Thru These Tears. My babes Troye and Matty would agree with me when I say it's like drugs for the soul.

I love you and you and you and yes, you!


	29. Waiting Between Worlds

**Chapter 28**

* * *

Everything's a mess.

Chloe deems this the worst week of her whole life. Beca has been in and out of meetings, trying to maintain clarity despite the tension between her and the Vanderbilt council members. It just makes her deserving of the crown even more. Still, despite her future wife's commendable work ethic, ever since they've returned from France Beca hasn't had a break from the problems arising one after another and Chloe can see how this is all taking a toll on her—both of them actually.

It hadn't been long since Beca started sleeping through the night without the nightmares but this week it seems that the stress of work is triggering some of them again. She's even going back to drinking whiskey, her go-to coping mechanism when under stress. Chloe does her best to convince her to drink something else instead, like Stacie and Stella's favorite tea or Emily's go-to drink on a cold rainy day, hot chocolate but of course, Beca is stubborn about it. Unfortunately for her, when the bond between them grows day by day, hiding your whiskey from your fiancée is proving to be hard.

For her part, Chloe tries to put everything in a positive light as possible, it's been almost two weeks since the dreaded council letter was sent to their home and moping about it certainly won't help. It definitely won't ease the extremely heavy burden of the crown sitting on Beca's head. So, it's all up to Chloe to make sure that her Queen's troubles are at least lifted even if just a little bit whenever she comes home exhausted, mentally, emotionally and physically.

Honestly, at this point in her life, she thanks her parents for bringing her up with the mindset that she'd be sitting next to a high, if not the highest, power of authority because at least, she's somehow prepared for something as big as this.

Today was one of those days. Those days when Beca looks like she'd gone through war and Chloe already knows what caused this. Aside from the council stomping down on their desire to officially be together, issues regarding private armies and the rights of half-lings, the growing number of death threats and assassination attempts have started to cause alarm within the council but that's expected when Beca's reign has been about change. Change that would surely piss off those who benefit from the old ways. Thus, security has doubled all over Victor Barden and protocols have been changed for the sake of safety. It has even come to a point where Chloe starts begging Beca not to leave the walls of the manor. But as expected, Beca assures her that 'those amateurs can't touch me.

It's not like Chloe doubts Beca's skills in defending herself, she very much knows what her _Midnight_ is capable of, but there's still that fear that a moment's weakness can give opportunity to those who want nothing more but destroy her. So maybe she's been spending time in between classes with Beca's uncle Gabin—who else better to get fighting lessons from but the royal crown's head of security?—in order to sharpen her aim and practice taking down enemies. Because Chloe Beale may look like she's gentle and harmless as a fawn but make no mistake, she's not going to sit next to crowned royalty—whether the council agrees to it or not—and be unable to protect her own soulmate.

Beca agrees to it, not only because she's happy to share, well, killing techniques to her beloved redhead but because it makes her proud to see that the confidence Chloe's lost in regards to her disownment is coming back—also, Chloe's hot when on determined-to-kick-ass-mode so she's not complaining.

"What's wrong?" Chloe asks as she notices the far-away look on Beca's face.

The exhausted Du Pont now has her head on Chloe's lap as the Vanderbilt softly runs her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp with gentle motions because as she's observed it easily calms Beca and stops her from thinking too hard about issues at hand.

Deep blue eyes look up at her and Chloe feels the heavy thoughts weighing on Beca's head. It's still a blur and she can't clearly read into them—which will improve once they officially bond as soulmates.

The Du Pont slowly sits up and sighs. Tenderly, she places a hand on Beca's cheek, making her face her as she searches for those deep ocean blues once more. Chloe may not know what exactly is troubling her Queen but she does know that she's willing to listen to whatever it is, and that Beca need only tell her.

They've promised each other that there will be no more secrets and Chloe knows that Beca always keeps her promises.

When Beca's eyes meet hers once more, the Du Pont finally confesses.

"I know now where my brother's child is hidden, Stefan's son… my nephew,"

The words weren't expected but Chloe understands how big this information is.

"Are you sure?" she asks because she knows just how much this means to Beca and false hopes are something of a repeating occurrence in the Du Pont's life, something Chloe will never give up on changing.

Beca nods solemnly and Chloe wraps her arms around her. Anything involving Stefan is to be treaded lightly with Beca given to how sensitive this topic is.

"Chlo," she hears Beca softly say and in a moment she looks back at the Du Pont. "I need to see him. I want to," she continues and Chloe nods in understanding.

"Will you come with me?" Beca asks and the answer is out of Chloe's lips without even a second thought.

"Of course. Always,"

Not big on words, Beca kisses her and it's more than enough to convey just how much she appreciates her support. With Chloe's thoughts getting lost in Beca's lips, it's pretty much safe to say that no amount of worse can kill the happiness they feel when together.

Once they part, heads resting against each other, Beca takes her hand, eyes looking down at the engagement ring Chloe wouldn't take off even during Gabin's rigorous trainings—she wears it as a necklace when she needs to punch things.

"Gabin tells me you're not one to mess with," Beca says with a small smile and it lifts a weight off of Chloe's chest because the Du Pont's smiles had been rare this week. "Your aim is good, exceptionally good enough to land straight at its target"

Chloe's face lights up, the excitement bubbling up inside her as she recalls the memory before proudly correcting her, "On a _moving_ target,"

The Du Pont's eyebrows rise as her smile widens, "A _moving_ target, my bad,"

"Yes, and it took me a bit by surprise but I remained calm and bang! I hit mister Dots then I—"

"Mister Dots?"

"Yeah!"

"Chlo… did you give all the targets a name?"

"Of course I did, Becs. There's mister Dots, miss Wiggly, mister Floppy and baby Dots! There's a new target tomorrow and I'm going to name it—" she says before Beca cuts her off with a kiss.

"Right, I'm totes marrying this," Beca mumbles against her lips with a smile.

* * *

 **Pristina, Kosovo**

 **4 years ago**

"You know the drill, lovey,"

Stefan says, map laid out on the bed as Beca looks over at him from the table. Glancing back down at the guns laid out in front of her, she stops cleaning the barrel of the gun she's holding before making her way to the bed, crawling on top of it before dropping down on her stomach to stare at the map. Her eyes wander all over it before it lands on a specific country.

"Spit it out," Stefan interrupts her silent thoughts.

Looking up to where he was seated, swirling his whiskey, she finds him observing her closely. She inhales before doing exactly that, spitting out her thoughts.

"I've never been to New Zealand,"

Stefan pauses mid-sip as he stares right back at her. She recognizes that familiar look of skepticism and it urges her to explain herself.

"I've heard that they have quaint little artsy towns and beautiful caves, the ones that glow,"

The silence stretches and her brother seems to study her for a bit before finally speaking.

"There's nothing there. It's just an island somewhere down below,"

"I know,"

"You seem to have given this a thought,"

Beca looks back down at the map, exhaling as her eyes never leave the destination she had just suggested.

"I just," she starts, fingers combing her hair. "I just think that someday all these running, this life, at some point… it's… it's going to get tiring and I figured that maybe New Zealand could probably be a place where we could… rest. Far from all this mess, that stupid council, somewhere… _safe_. I mean, it's just a suggestion. We don't really have to go,"

Her voice is small when she ends before bringing her gaze up uncertainly, meeting his eyes. Slowly, he nods before finally taking a long sip from his drink. When he puts down his glass, he looks back at her once more.

"Okay, New Zealand. If that's what you want, we can _rest_ there afterwards," he says and it sounds hopeful.

It's meaningful, the way he looks at her as he stretches out his hand towards her and it reminds her of her childhood. A smile forms in her lips and instantly she reaches out, taking his hand for her to hold.

"I promise," he adds softly.

Beca hangs on to it, giving way to the hope of a brighter tomorrow taking over her.

It's a start.

A new beginning.

* * *

 **Feilding, New Zealand**

 **4 years later**

"You're highness," Gabin calls from the seat next to the driver's. When she looks up at him, he watches her with concern.

"We're here,"

She squeezes Chloe's hand and nods before looking up to find a simple but pretty home, more like a cabin, in the middle of a good amount of land. It's somewhat a rural area, thirty minutes away from the town center. There's a garden filled with flowers and some vegetable crops. The sight makes her chest ache and at some point she wonders if she could actually get herself out of the car.

"Becs," Chloe's voice pulls her back as she finds worried baby blue eyes staring back at her in silent question.

One look back at the house, she knows what her decision would be as she takes a lungful of air and speaks, "I'm ready,"

The doors of the car are opened for them and she steps outside.

"The property seems to be owned by a man called Cabe O. Bridges. We tried calling the contact number but it's dead. From what we've gathered, I doubt there's a real Cabe O. Bridges but if it is still human property we'd probably have to use force to make it easier," Gabin tells her but he is met with a smile.

"That's not necessary," Beca simply says as Chloe curiously looks at her until it finally clicks.

"It's your name," Chloe suddenly says before glancing at Gabin. "What does 'O' stand for?" she asks, excitement in her tone while the older Du Pont checks the papers.

"Oliver," he answers, his frown disappearing at the realization.

"Of course! A masculine version of Olivia as in Beca's second name," Chloe says with a laugh before adding, "Cabe is an anagram for Beca and Du Pont literally means from the bridge so, Bridges!" she says, looking pleased.

"You know the investigative department is in need of fresh minds," he whispers towards Beca who only shakes her head. "Your mate has potential," her uncle adds before exchanging finger guns with a beaming Chloe behind her back, obviously already making it clear that he has joined the thousands that have flocked to team Chlo Chlo.

"Idiots," Beca mutters before confidently stepping forward to test Chloe's theory. It's a solid theory especially, when Beca has used the name Cabe as alias in some of her missions across the globe.

As soon as she steps unto the property, her heart starts beating hard.

"Becs?" Chloe calls out from behind when she doesn't say anything. It takes her a couple of seconds before she finally turns to the redhead.

Stretching out her hand towards Chloe, she cocks her head to the side, "C'mon,"

Chloe's hand finds hers as they start walking towards the house while security immediately surrounds the perimeter. Gabin leads the way and wastes no time in knocking at the door.

Only silence greets them.

Beca waits with her heart hammering and finally she hears footsteps but it stops and she already has a feeling about what's going on inside.

Mia Black, of course, what else do you expect? Trained at the same class as Stefan and served the royal crown for almost two years. Her specialty had always been gathering intel and camouflage, a term they used when discreetly following their targets. Beca has to admit that she'd be a bit disappointed if the woman didn't go down without a fight.

"Break down the door," she orders, temper rising and impatience wearing thin.

No sooner had she given the order, Gabin kicks the door open and his men quickly file in, prepared for anything. In less than a second, grunts and shouts are heard.

"Beca," Chloe's eyes look at her in alarm, her voice pleading as she holds on to her arm.

Not hearing a reply from her, the redhead glances back and forth from her to the house in distress. Chloe hates violence and as much as possible she's tried telling her that a peaceful approach would be so much better especially when there's a baby involved in the mix and not just any baby. He is Stefan's son and therefore, a Du Pont, the Queen's nephew.

"If she just opened the door in the first place instead of opposing us then we wouldn't have to resort to this. It's clearly an insult to the crown and it deserves punishment," Beca sternly points out after the sound of something breaking and opening is heard.

"But still," Chloe presses on. "This is her home and that's also her son. It's a mother's instinct to protect her child. Beca, please,"

"And why does she need to protect him? From whom? From his own blood? From me?" Beca throws back and yet despite the harsh tone, Chloe doesn't even flinch as oppose to the staff working for the council who cower when she as much clicks her tongue in annoyance.

"There's a reason he hid them here," Chloe says desperately and that hits a chord. "Make them stop, Becs. Please, at least do this for me," she begs just as gunshots break from inside.

The noise inside increases echoing her own heartbeat and even if she feels differently, she couldn't find a reply to that, her eyes flitting over to the flower garden and deep down she knows that Chloe has a point.

Clenching her fists, she suddenly whips her head towards one of her security, "Stop! She is not to be harmed,"

Her orders are quickly relayed and almost instantly the noise stops at Gabin's loud, "Hold your fire!"

Next to her, she hears Chloe's audible sigh of relief. "Thank you," she breathes out and Beca looks down the ground, a mixture of emotions fighting inside of her as she tries to compose herself.

The silence ensues and wordlessly she searches for Chloe's hand. Slowly, she walks in the house for the first time, taking in the minimal but homey interior. It's nothing grand with it only being a one-story house. The furniture isn't expensive, rustic wood and ordinary tiles, but the sofa looked comfortable next to the small fireplace. The dining area and kitchen are located just across the sofa. Beca thinks it's all too small, small for a Du Pont child.

On any ordinary day, it would've looked peaceful if only at the middle of the house a stand-off wasn't happening. Mia and Gabin holding each other at gun point. There's two bodies sprawled out on the floor, unconscious but still alive, while the other three of Gabin's men surround the former soldier. All of them frozen with the unbearable tension as Beca steps in keeping Chloe right behind her.

"Mia," Beca opens in greeting as she eyes the woman's trembling hands.

"Beca," she coldly replies and Gabin instantly growls in objection.

"That's your Queen and therefore you will address her with respect! On your knees!" he yells angrily, pointing his gun higher at her and yet she still doesn't yield. There's a bruise forming near her eye and her lip bleeding but still there's a lot of fight left within her.

Her spirit is almost commendable if only it wasn't stupid.

With three other guns pointing at her, it is stupid not to yield and Beca scoffs at that. Another idiot in her midst, only this one isn't even adorable.

"You're not going to gain anything," she says simply towards the rebel. "Your exits are blocked and even if you take one down, you're still open. You're still dead," she lays out before adding,

"I doubt you'd want to go that way. Efforts wasted and your body just laying down on the floor in a puddle of your own blood,"

Behind her, Chloe's grip on the fabric of her dark long coat tightens.

Beca expects some sort of insult, an angry retort or probably the worst but her own world stops at the sound of crying. It's actually inaudible to human hearing but they weren't exactly normal human beings. The sound was coming from the little hallway over the left leading to a single room, the one behind Mia who also stiffens at the sound, eyes widening with fear.

Beca's feet move to the direction, it felt like she was going in slow motion, eyes solely focused straight ahead like nothing else mattered. In an instant there was movement, Mia apparently had taken her eyes off Gabin, her frantic, 'No!' towards Beca sounds so far away. There's a flurry of motion, Mia ends up down the floor, now weaponless as Gabin is quick to seize the opportunity with her distracted state, her dark hair covering half her face as she screams her protest, eyes following Beca's path.

Her hands find contact at the door knob and it feels like she's been splashed with cold water, she doesn't realize it until late but she's trembling, her breathing becoming shallow. The walls feel like it's closing in on her and she squeezes her eyes shut, afraid that if she opened them blood will once more seep under those cracks along with the whispers of the dead.

She descends down that path, slipping helplessly until a warm hand encloses her own.

"Hey," Chloe's comforting voice wraps her like a thick blanket on a winter night. "I'm here. Take a deep breath for me, Becs,"

Oxygen floods her lungs and as soon as she exhales, her eyes slowly open. Chloe's hand covering hers, still clenching the door knob.

"Together?" Chloe asks softly and there's so much love and support in her eyes that it almost brings her to tears.

Beca nods, blinking to hold her emotions back. She's here as the Queen and a strong front is always required of her in front of her people. But at moments like this, she thanks the heavens for giving her Chloe because certainly, she would have been shattered without her by her side. There is no one better to sit next to her throne but the woman who holds her heart.

They twist the knob and soon the door opens. She scans the room and it's empty, save for a bed, a closet and a small vanity desk but she hears it, the small little hiccups and cries.

Her eyes fall back to the closet which looked ordinary at first but then again a closer look would give away that it isn't as ordinary as it seems.

Du Ponts had always loved secret doors and Stefan was very much a Du Pont when it comes to that.

Her fingers brush the wooden surface until she feels it, the hidden latch right at the side. One push is all it took and air seeps out from inside the small gap. Beca lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

Staying still, she looks back at Chloe and it doesn't take long until she's nodding, understanding what she had to do.

"If you need me, I'll just be right here," she tells Beca who then pulls open the hidden door that would lead her into a secret nursery room.

It's well equipped and well-furnished unlike the simple interior outside. There's a small cushion to sit in, cabinets full with baby clothes and other necessities and the crib itself placed against the wall. Stefan's guitar was placed at a corner, serving as a part of the little music theme of the room. The walls were painted exactly as Beca's own childhood bedroom back in France with all the musical notes scattered beautifully against the brown earthy colors. It was like stepping back in time, to be honest.

She carefully steps towards the crib where the source of those little cries are. Brown hair exactly like her own is the first thing she sees in the middle of soft blankets. She lets out a soft gasp, breathing shakily as she tries to swallow back the sob threatening to escape from her chest.

Cautiously, she reaches down, fingers slowly making contact with very soft cheeks and suddenly the crying ceases. Dark blue eyes pop open, looking up at her and it is enough to knock the air out of her. Tiny fingers reach up, closing and opening until they latch on to her forefinger.

"He looks like you. Exactly like you," she whispers and it's like he's right there with her, alive and still cocky as ever as he lazily perches himself anywhere he wants. Most likely next to the crib, elbow propped up at the edge of the railing.

"He does. Which means he looks like you too," he says with a smirk and she nods.

"Of course,"

"Ah, you saw the garden? Flowers and vegetables, just like you said. There should be more trees so that we can hang up that swing I bought but… well, single parents like Mia don't really have the leisure of time," he straightens up, putting his hands inside his leather jacket pockets and leans his back against the wall.

Beca lets out a small laugh, a memory fresh in her mind, "That was what seven year old Beca said,"

"Why? Does nineteen year old Beca not like it?"

"I'm turning twenty this year," She reminds him before finally admitting, "It's beautiful,"

"Just like him," she adds softly, gazing back down at the baby and Stefan smiles.

He detaches himself from the wall and takes a step towards her, eyes down on his own son as well, "You know, this was how we first met," he says, his face seemingly remembering the moment fondly. "Only that it was you in the crib and me standing where you are standing now,"

She nods, brushing a tear rolling down her cheek until she just lets herself break, "I couldn't save you," she says sadly, voice cracking with the emotions.

"It's not your fault, lovey. I chose that path and I'm sorry that you had to witness it,"

She sobs, her hand coming up to her trembling lips. He steps closer until he leans his head against hers. She closes her eyes reveling in his presence.

"But you can save _him_ ," he whispers before motioning over to the corner over to his guitar next to the single cushion seat. "I have something for you,"

Walking over to the instrument, two of its strings now missing due to her own curious hands back when she was a child, she carefully picks the guitar up, the guitar which she thought he had fixed yet there it was, still missing its strings. She tilts it a bit, trying to get a feel of it, holding it as if she were to play it and that's when something white inside the guitar's hole catches her eyes. Slowly, she inspects it before slipping her hand inside, fingers brushing with a single piece of paper. Taking and opening it, she finds words scribbled in Stefan's writing starting with her name on top. Sniffing, she wipes her tears again before glancing up from the single sheet of wrinkled paper.

"What's this?" she weakly asks, turning to him.

"Something I didn't get to tell you when I was alive,"

Her eyes fall down on the letter once more, scanning each and every word again and again. Shock graces her features until all that is left is resolve.

"I love you, Beca,"

The words flow like a gently lullaby yet it claws at her, ripping her heart apart with sadness.

"I promised to myself that I will keep you safe, even after my last breath," he says as he smiles down on his son before reaching out to touch her face. She lightly leans against it.

"A promise is a promise,"

She takes a step closer to the crib, her heart now beating steadily than before as she tenderly picks up her nephew and cradles him in her arms. When she gazes back up, Stefan is looking at her, there's pride in his eyes. It's the same look he gives her when she's picked a place to go in the map and the same one whenever she runs back to him. The same look whenever he offers his hand towards her.

"Protect him with your life," he gently says as she looks down at the yawning baby, apparently feeling comfortable in her arms enough to start sleeping.

Never leaving the sight of such purity and innocence, she whispers softly,

"Always and until the end,"

With those words, she gives him a tender kiss on top of his little head.

It's a solemn promise, an unbreakable vow and a sworn love that will never die.

The first thing she hears when she steps out of the nursery is the gush of adoration Chloe gives when she lays eyes on the baby in her arms. "He's lovely, Becs," she says softly, careful not to wake the sleeping baby as she gently touches his little feet.

However when she continues to make her way out to the door, Chloe's face changes into apparent confusion. "W-Where are you taking him?" she asks. There's a lot more she probably wants to say but it falls dead when Beca stops in front of the weeping Mia who now was kneeling down the floor looking a lot less confident than before. Her eyes filled with fear as she looks up at her and the baby in her arms and she's back to pleading.

"Please, don't take him away from me. He's all I have," she tearfully implores as she begins to move and in an instant every gun is ready and aimed at her.

"Down!" Beca snaps at her soldiers. "My nephew isn't going to be greeted with guns aimed near him," she says, eyes piercing through Gabin's as she tries to maintain her control. The baby in her arms stirs but with one gentle sway continues to sleep peacefully, unaware of the tension surrounding him.

Weapons are immediately disarmed and hidden as they all take a few steps back, giving them space.

"Stand up," she commands Mia who obeys, knees a bit wobbly as she stands.

Beca looks back down at her sleeping nephew, "What did you name him?"

Not getting an immediate answer her eyes switch towards the woman in front of her with a silent command, demanding an answer.

"Stefan," she finally answers unsteadily, voice dry from all the screaming. "We never got to think of a name before… he died and so I—in his memory,"

There's pain in her words and it moves something deep within. It's not hard to think that it's the same pain they both share but Beca doesn't dwell much on it. Instead she brings her focus to the house.

"You need more space," she points out as Mia looked lost for a couple of seconds until Beca adds, "Extend the rooms and some trees where you can hang a swing… for Stefan,"

Mia's face turns hopeful and expectant, her eyes suddenly brimming with life.

"I want you to enroll him in a good school, teach him music, read him good books, teach him to be polite, respectful and friendly, to be confident, to protect and forgive," she kisses his little hand.

"To let him know who his father was and how much he loved him. That _I_ love him and that is why he needs to stay here because this is where he will be _safe_ , away from all those who wish to do him harm. That I will do everything to make sure that one day he can finally come back home and visit the rest of his family in France… because he is a Du Pont,"

Carefully, she gives him back to his mother's arms and there's a tinge of loss as she parts from him. She shakes the heavy feeling away knowing it's all for the best and sticking to the thought that they'd reunite someday. She turns to Chloe finding her eyes glassy and hands over her heart with a reassuring smile.

Moving to leave, she abruptly stops as she catches Mia falling to her knees, looking up at her before bowing down her head, "Thank you, your highness,"

"Just take care of him and love him like he's the only one that matters," she replies.

"I already do, your highness,"

And that's all she really needed to hear.

With Chloe by her side, they walk back to the cars when the redhead suddenly stops, "Oh! I almost forgot something," she gasps before turning to one of Beca's assistants.

She opens the bag for Chloe while Beca watches them curiously. It doesn't take long until she finally gets what the fuss is about when Chloe pulls out Beca's precious stuffed otter and her very own stuffed red panda. Her fiancée turns to her giving her a sheepish look.

"Go," she permits like she doesn't have a choice yet her lips curve up as Chloe grins happily before rushing back to the house.

Seconds later, she's back, attaching herself quickly on Beca's side and looking really satisfied. "Home?" she asks and Beca nods as they continue to walk to their car.

She glances back towards Mia and baby Stefan, in between her hand, a letter in which she holds so tight it crumples almost into a ball, her head now clear as ever.

They leave in a minute, heading back to the airport, Beca's thoughts still stuck to the little house in Fielding. The one where a red panda sits next to an otter by the crib, guarding the sleeping little Du Pont who will one day be dreaming of ships, castles and Queens far away in a place where he proudly calls home.

* * *

 **Council Monthly Meeting at the Round Table.**

 **Corvinn Castle, Romania**

Being Queen is like holding the world in your hands. It's not light and yet no matter how weary you are or how exhausting it is, you hold it up in order for it not to break.

Beca wears the crown and sometimes she wonders if it is made of precious stones or thorns. They adorn her with beautiful things everyone would be envious of. If only they understood the lingering thought that this could be it, the dress she would die in. It can't be denied that almost every crowned royalty who has sat in that very throne all died horribly. It's all in the books if anyone dares doubt it.

But above all that, the worst thing of being Queen?

Is looking at a traitor right in the eye without even knowing it.

"Private armies should be abolished," Benjamin, spokesperson for the non-elites declares for the tenth time that day as he stands up from his seat, angry and determined.

"How are we going to be assured that a rebellion as big as what went down on what is known as the Victor Barden massacre won't happen again if these private armies exist," protests suddenly break out but he continues on firmly.

"Oh let's be honest here now, an army that big attacking a university would be easy to hide in the guise of private armies. Private armies which every elite bloodline secretly keeps," he boldly lets out, unafraid to look at all of the leaders from each family in the eye as he says this.

"What? A large group of murderers just appearing out of nowhere doesn't seem strange at all? How is it that they avoided being detected by our best agents for so long? Yes, for so long, because I doubt that they all just decided to get together one night at a bar," he fiercely says, waving his hand in the air to prove his point before simmering down as he looks straight at Beca.

"This is an attack that had went through years and years of planning. Once is enough, too much blood has spilled, too many families lost. We learn through our mistakes and letting this private armies exist is just going to be a repeat of that horrible mistake. It's true they are for protection but they can also lead into our destruction," he implores at her, willing her to take his side as he has been trying to do for these past few weeks. She simply stares at him, eyes not giving anything away, unreadable and cold.

"And what is the basis of this accusation then?" Sorina Niculae pointedly asks. "Are you suggesting that it's our fault that this horrible act has happened?" she says, clearly offended at the insinuation.

"You better come up with something to prove it," Lucas Ortega adds. "Because a case for libel is not far behind if you fail to do so," he says in a foreboding tone.

"Do you deny having a private army?" Benjamin blurts out and the tension rises at this point, clearly not afraid to back down as he looks at every leader sitting around the table. All of them looking like they'd rather be anywhere than here. There's a scoff from the Kumiko Mori as she shakes her head.

"We have a private army," she bluntly says as if it's nothing but everyone knows it's not nothing because in knowing that her son was one of the casualties, she's just about reaching boiling point. "And you think we'd use it against our own children? Our children who we've built these so called armies for _their_ protection. If this is your idea of a morbid joke then you must be mad!" she says lowly, fist clenching on top of the table and eyes dancing from black to red.

"Okay, how about we all calm down and talk about this in a much less hostile manner?" Ivan, Beca's uncle tries to pacify the situation as he raises his hand up to signify a stop to the brewing arguments.

"How about we stop the blaming and get to a more practical solution instead? Moping about the past like bitter little children isn't going to help at all. There have been threats to the crown ever since the ancient ages. Wars have risen through the years because of the power of the throne," Rafaele Vanderbilt finally breaks his silence, his eyes boring at each one before settling at Benjamin's way.

"But despite that here we all are. The crown is safe and the council still intact.

The non-elite visibly swallows under the glare as he sits, finding interest down the table before his eyes dart up directly at Beca.

"I think he is only suggesting that somebody in this room has their eyes set on the crown and has every intention of hiring someone like Stefan Sala to take the blame when it all blows up," Beca's voice breaks the silence, looking right back at Benjamin who subtly nods.

Every head turns to her in shock and indignation. Her crown sits heavy on her heavy at the mention of it. Memories starting to pile in one after the other. Her childhood, her brother, the places they went, the people they met, all forms of evil and darkness, and even Underworld itself. All of it, finally coming full circle.

All these years.

"I've worked under the black flag," she holds her head up, unafraid of being vocal about this part of her past. "I've killed… people,"

Every face flashes in her mind.

"There's a list of them," she continues, "Protect the government under any means necessary by eliminating its enemies, all to be done secretly. Because it's easier that way. No need for legal procedures, rights and jurisdiction. Just get rid of it," she inhales.

"My mistake?" she smiles bitterly. "My ignorance," she lets out a breath of disbelief, disbelief at herself.

"I never bothered wondering exactly why I had to do what I had to do. Why I never thought of knowing who I was really working for only that for every single mission I would complete I would make the world a better place," she shakes her head.

"My father thought the same and now he's gone," she clenches her jaw.

"I never really wanted the crown. I didn't ask for this. I was just angry at everyone, at myself, looking for ways to piss him off and joining this secret organization is my way of going against my dear father. I didn't give a shit about world peace," she smiles sarcastically.

She might lose the crown for this but that doesn't matter anymore. They can do what they want but she's letting it all out tonight.

"I wanted chaos and look at what that did," she mumbles sadly.

"I was blind… but not anymore. Now I know what that list really is all about. Why those people needed to be _dealt_ with," she nods over to Benjamin who snaps his fingers over to his staff. In a minute, black folders containing documents, photos and receipts, some of them belonging to Stefan himself.

"I had enlisted Benjamin's help to compile every single one of those papers," she informs them as she stands up. "Those are documents containing every single under the table transactions, every contact Stefan has at the black market, names of every contact that is on that same list given to us by Underworld. Every evidence that I need to pluck out the weeds secretly growing in my garden,"

She eyes the photo of her brother and vividly remembers the times they spent running around the world.

She remembers the smuggled weapons, all high powered guns and explosives. She remembers one of the nights where she hid inside the bathroom, shaking in fear as her brother stains his hands with blood in order to keep her safe.

" _Fuck!"_ she remembers her brother exclaim in frustration as she obediently sits on the edge of the bed. Her finger bleeding from one of the guitar strings that snapped. It was her brother's favorite guitar.

Her lips had trembled that night. She never wanted him to be disappointed but she had made a mistake and now he is. Stefan loved that guitar and Beca had broken it. Now she regrets ever touching it.

" _I'm sorry, Stepy,"_ she had weakly said, the tears starting its descent down her cheeks. She truly was sorry that night.

Her words had made him stop. In seconds he's crossing back to her, kneeling down to level her gaze. She remembered how shaky his hands were and how distracted he looked.

" _I'm not mad at you, lovey,"_ he had assured her that night. _"I just found about something, something that could be really horrible. So, don't cry now. I can buy another guitar. Now let's get you patched up,"_ he had looked at her wound and frowned at it.

He had wiped her tears and she had launched herself straight at him afterwards, hugging him tightly.

" _Beca, listen to me. I have to bring you back home, okay? Our little adventure is over,"_ those words had made her heart drop. She remembers crying so hard and shaking her head because he never said that he was going back with her. That he had to leave and find out about something.

" _I'll be good, Stepy. I promise not to do it again,"_

But he brought her back home anyway. Because he said that it's too dangerous where he was going and that he was doing it for her but she didn't understand what that meant.

" _There are bad people who are starting something really, really bad, Beca. I have to go. I have to find out what exactly it is. If I don't, then soon they will hurt you,"_

If she had known that she wouldn't be seeing him in a year after that day, she would've held on to him tighter and never let him leave.

" _You have to stay here. You are going to be a Queen. It's the only thing that can you make you untouchable, Beca. And me? I will make sure that the crown is yours and those bad people are going to walk through me first before they take it from you,"_

It never really made sense then. But he promised that he would come back and that's the only thing she really understood. Stefan always comes back. Especially when she needed him the most.

"Stefan was only a part of the game, the important chess piece in order for the game master to win and he played the part well," she walks to the side, passing by the Du Ponts and the Ortegas.

"He played it so well that he managed to deceive the mastermind, the person behind it all," she slowly circles around, passing by the non-elites before stopping right at the Moris, a hand over the back of Kumiko's seat.

"My brother," she emphasizes, unashamed of speaking their relation to each other. Because that's the truth, that's who Stefan was and he meant the world to her. "Was a very good deceiver. It was his most excellent skill. I could never surpass him there even if he taught almost all of it to me,"

The faces around the table are now confused and Beca simply lets them try to figure it out. Stefan would've loved to see this moment but he probably already did.

"His deception starts by working for an anonymous billionaire, one who had enough money to grow an army of murderers and purchase weapons, all in secret of course," she starts walking again, passing by the Vanderbilts and stopping right behind the Niculaes. "You'd be surprised to find that every transaction trails up to the same name, a false alias of course but the same source, if you dig deep enough,"

"This anonymous person also happens to secretly fund Underworld's activities. And isn't it strange that through the course of time, some of the agents just disappeared hidden under the reason that they've simply quit, run away and started joining the black market, anything that is labelled illegal," she exhales.

"Or that all these arms dealers and illegal fighting arenas are suddenly being eliminated by the Underworld. Take note, _eliminated_ not even captured! They are all classified as top priority but why? They're all just businessmen in the end. What about the more threatening criminals? Rabid assassins? Those who kill humans because they lack control? Underworld is a secret organization that fights the enemies of the council, the crown and our people," she shakes her head.

The silence around the table is deadly that you could drop a pin and hear it clatter down loudly.

She returns right back behind her seat, arms resting on the back rest. "I'll tell you why. Or better yet, I'll tell you all what my brother told me," she holds out the letter which contains information she now knows by heart.

"Because this anonymous person wants the crown on their head and in order to do that, they need a large army that would come undetected, fighters as brutal as the ones in an illegal fighting ring and assassins as good as Underworld's finest. They needed weapons they could use, weapons that can only be acquired at the black market but of course a large transaction would immediately be detected so they transact with people like Stefan in order to collect a large arsenal of weapons secretly," she pauses, her hand clenching the already wrinkled piece of paper.

"But because my brother was smart he figured out the pattern, he had connections and he knew something was brewing outside the castle gates. He noticed the bread crumbs that were thrown carelessly and followed them. But he couldn't get close to the source so he had to do what he had to do and that is to sign up for the rebellion that was to be executed on that unfortunate night. It took more than ten years, that's how grand this scheme was,"

She starts walking again, slowly circling the table.

"He did it for me," she admits softly, blinking away the sudden blur in her eyes. "My father was a lost cause. They never really had a good relationship anyway. It was my life he wanted to protect," she nods, memories spinning through her mind.

"They were going to kill the heirs. All of them. All except for one," she stops right behind Benjamin.

"It wasn't me," she breathes out. "I was meant to die after coughing up the codes and patterns of the vault. Those were the precise orders. I was to be eliminated among all those next in line because I was going to be Queen and they didn't want that," she smiles in sarcasm.

"But what they didn't know was that the man they put in command was my brother. A brother who would do everything to protect what he loves. It was supposed to go accordingly, wasn't it? Only thing was, they didn't know that he and I were related!" her face goes slack, the truth of his actions and his death weighing heavily on her mind.

"And if they did, they didn't know how much we cared about each other. He hated our father, yes he did. He killed my mother, yes that too. But he loved me and I loved him, even after knowing what he did. I have a lot of crazy in me, maybe, and life is twisted that way sometimes. You don't have to understand. The bottomline is, Stefan had other plans. He had personal reasons and that's what they didn't expect, for things to go south. Trusting him was their mistake," she moves again, walking carefully around towards the Niculaes, fingers tracing along wood.

"Trust no one, that's lesson number one. That the monsters look just like us," her eyes look up from the floor to the people around the table. "And he was right. They walk amongst us, pretending that they are allies when they are the ones who'd stab you once your eyes close,"

She pauses, taking a step back and then another until she stops behind a seat, her hand landing on a shoulder as she leans down "But that stench of betrayal, it's far too strong to hide, no matter how many layers of perfume you try to douse it in, isn't that right?" she whispers near Rafaele's ear. His muscles stiffen under her touch and his jaw clenching.

"What are you trying to insinuate your highness?" he asks in a tone of indignation, turning his head to look at her in the eye.

"That your perfume is too strong, Rafaele,"

The gasps of shock and disbelief fill up the room.

"This is madness! What evidence do you have?" Thomas, sitting next to his father, growls.

"You show respect to your Queen!" Ivan Du Pont's voice booms as Beca's Aunt Yvonne quickly places a hand around his arm to calm him down.

But it's too late to soothe tempers as the Vanderbilts defend their own while the Du Ponts are now enraged at the offense against Beca's actions. The room is filled with more conflict and confusion. All until Benjamin slams down the last card.

A video recording taken from a USB that had been kept in a Switzerland vault under the name, Cabe O. Bridges. Its existence written clearly on the letter Stefan wrote for his sister.

" _You will kill all of them except for the one true King, Thomas Vanderbilt. I want them all dead starting with Darius. We both know that we cannot have a mentally deranged man for a King. The official documents that would officially make Thomas King are under that vault. We don't need Darius for the codes. I've been told that his daughter already knows them,"_

That silences everyone. Rafaele's voice crackling through the recording.

" _And after that?"_

Stefan's voice, calm and smooth.

" _Kill her. Just as you did to her mother. It wouldn't be so hard for you now, am I right? You're the best in this field and that's why I hired you,"_

The recording ends and every head turns towards Rafaele.

"Father?" Thomas looks at him wide-eyed and in disbelief.

"Checkmate," Beca softly mutters.

It only takes a second and a blade from Rafaele's cane swings right towards Beca. It also only takes a second for her to block it with her dagger, the deafening clash of blade against blade echoing around the room. A fight breaks out and Beca's irises flood with red. Security comes in and it's hard to tell who works for who as the battle spreads amongst them as well.

Fangs are bared, swords unsheathed and triggers had been pulled.

Some of the elites are being escorted to safety while some suffer injuries.

Beca blocks another swing and Rafaele pulls his sword back with an angle that enables him to slice through skin. She grunts in pain, her forearm bleeds and the sting is enough to remind her how long she hadn't been in a fight. Rafaele was an expert swordsman after all with tons more experience than her when it comes to that field. It's no surprise how easily he knocks her dagger out of her hands.

Yes, that's his field indeed.

So, Beca shows him the field where she's good at.

He swipes at her and she ducks. He might be bigger and taller but in a fight being small has its advantages like speed. She hits him right at the stomach before tilting her head back hard up to hit him right at the chin. He staggers backwards and she presses her heels at his chest to kick him, sending him bumping against the wall, his sword clattering down the ground as he tries to block Beca's punch.

"There are no swords in the streets, you piece of shit," she says through gritted teeth while Gabin and his team start taking down Rafaele's men.

She hits and he blocks but she outwits him enough to send him crumbling down the ground. He crawls away from her and she follows him, ready to pick him by the collar of his dress shirt and knock him out senseless.

"Snakes you like you don't deserve to be in my kingdom," she say through gritted teeth.

But as soon as he turns to her, in one quick move, he throws black powder at her followed by a sharp blow across her cheek. She falls to the floor, her fingers coming in contact with her dagger while she hears him pick up his sword.

"And dirty bloods like you don't deserve the crown. Your mother is nothing but a pathetic human whore and your father a fool for marrying her!" he lashes out, sword aimed right at her but she rolls out of the way despite her vision still a blur.

She's prepared for it, losing sight isn't a problem. She was trained by the best. Even if she loses a limb or two, she'd still knock an opponent down. This was her expertise.

Survival.

And she was mighty good at it. Good enough to cheat death over and over again.

He keeps aiming at her and she avoids it all just in time. The opportunity soon falls just as Stefan had emphasized all the time, his words floating around her and his presence felt even stronger at times like this.

" _Hold on, lovey,"_

She positions her dagger, getting ready for that opening. Rafaele swings his sword upwards, both hands tightly holding the handle as he gets ready to pierce the blade down on her. He lifts it high enough and that's it.

She sends her dagger flying with her right hand, a quick flick of her wrist and the perfect angle. It hits him at the center of his chest making him pause. He stares down at it then back at her as if saying that it's not enough. He's not going down without a final blow. He moves at her but stops again at the sound of a gun firing.

Beca looks up at the wound next to the spot where her dagger landed, one single bullet lodged inside his heart. He finally falls to his knees before looking up to the shooter with shock. Beca follows his line of sight. She sees Gabin poised to shoot but with the angle of his gun, it didn't come from him. It came from the person next to him.

"Chlo," Beca murmurs in disbelief.

Tears flow down from baby blue eyes but there's determination in them, one where she knows exactly what her duty is to the crown, where her loyalty lies, and a whole lot of anger, for all the betrayal and the lies that almost cost the life of her most beloved. The redhead lowers her gun, hands visibly shaking.

"Long live the Queen," she firmly says followed by the sound of Rafaele Vanderbilt's body falling down the floor.

"Father!" Thomas anguished cries fill up the space next as he runs to his father's side.

Beca gets up, walking towards her beloved and wrapping her arms around her. Chloe buries herself into her and it reminded Beca of that time they were together in the Winter Forest.

"It's over," she whispers towards Chloe and this time she knows it really is.

* * *

Rafaele Vanderbilt is a traitor and the Vanderbilts release a statement regarding how much they detest his actions. They do not share the same beliefs as he did and are ashamed to have been acquainted with somebody like him. Nevertheless, they apologized for being unable to stop the unfortunate Victor Barden massacre. Had they only known of his plans none of it would've happened and how deeply they regret being a failure to the crown and its people. They are willing to cooperate with government in any way possible if need be. It's a blow to their reputation for sure but with a new head of the bloodline, they are hoping for a brighter and better future.

Beca remains as the Queen of Corvinn Castle despite her involvement with Stefan. She had been willing to step down but the council are united in voting that she remain seated on the throne, saying that she bears intelligence of a strong leader, the heart of one who can protect her people and a bringer of positive change for the better. She may be imperfect but these imperfections are what make her real and true.

Stefan is laid to rest in France, in a quiet sanctuary far from the city. A place overlooking the mountains where he and Beca used to go to. He had told her once that that mornings are his favorite part of the day and how he wished Beca could enjoy it. Now, she knows that every morning he'd be looking out at the beautiful sunshine emerging from the hills.

It is there when she finally bids him goodnight.

Nights come and go, they've overcome another hurdle, the school year is coming to an end and here they are, continuously healing and coping. It would take time, that she knows but then with the help of family, it might not take _that_ long.

Family, a word that Beca thought would always be foreign to her but guess life still loves giving her surprises just like the girl in her arms.

Chloe, the love she thought she had lost has now made her presence a permanent stamp in the Du Pont household as she happily chats with the rest of her cousins. Her laughter lights up the whole room and Beca smiles behind her coffee cup at the sound. Sometimes, it all feels like a dream and it does scare her thinking of it, waking up to find that it's not real.

But it is and… she's happy. With everything she had gone through, of all the dark places she found herself in, finally, she's happy. Maybe years ago, she would have scoffed at the idea of it and now she understands. That she had to go through all that to appreciate what she has now, to thank the heavens that she hadn't given up halfway through and continued on no matter how painful.

The harsh memories flood her mind but when Chloe looks her way with those perfect blue eyes and intertwines their hands together it all disappears, forgotten and banished at the back of her head.

The dining table is full and that's all thanks to Stacie who had dragged a reluctant Jesse to help her—because he is the easiest to bully and wouldn't burn anything. The twins are opening another bet about the ending of an upcoming movie—which Beca isn't interested in—and the whole table is arguing about it. Emily is slyly looking at her phone and it's most probably Scott because her lips look like they want to crack into a smile. Stella is taking selfies with her sister and suddenly everyone, except for Beca, wants to be included but ultimately she doesn't have a choice as Chloe pulls her in.

Overall, everything is slowly going back to normal and Beca doesn't admit it out loud but she's glad it is because she's actually missed moments like this.

However, despite the semblance of normalcy, there's a few things she's picking up that worries her. She may be Queen and time spent with her cousins may be limited but when one of them is hurting she would know, no matter how busy she had been.

The chatter shifts to school—more like plans of one last big end of school party, as suggested by Jesse—and now everyone is getting ready for their classes. As it turns out, both she and Chloe don't have classes for the day. Of course they get teasing about having the house all to themselves. Chloe blushes while Beca shuts them all down with a glare and a threatening, 'Get out, all of you' and it doesn't take long until they are all scrambling out of the door.

But before they could all leave, Beca stands to follow them, well, one of them.

"Stace," she calls out as the tall brunette stops in her tracks to look back at her.

With Beca buried in work and not being able to accompany her cousins it was Stacie who had been corralling the noisy little brats. At times it would be Chloe but sometimes—and to Beca's annoyance—the redhead condones the mischief like a parent who always gives in to their rotten children's wishes.

"The answer is no," the taller Du Pont replies before seriously adding, "Don't have sex in my kitchen, no matter how sturdy those gorgeous marble counter tops are,"

A playful smirk appears on Stacie's lips and Beca could only roll her eyes. When the playfulness dies, Beca quickly drops into a much serious tone. She sees through the façade, something is there and Stacie had done such a great job keeping it in.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks and Stacie looks at her knowingly with eyes that hold sorrow in them.

Beca's seen this before but something tells her that this feels heavier, something that had been cried about when she sleeps and something that is painful enough for her naturally open cousin to keep from all of them and endure on her own.

The older Conrad shakes her head silently, a thin smile in her lips. Beca appreciates the honesty instead of feigning ignorance. That's really what she loves about Stacie. When it's bad it's bad, no pretending or denying it.

"I'll be okay. Still alive, you know," a chuckle escapes her lips and Beca nods, respecting her decision and figuring that maybe a bit more time is what she needs.

Fresh wounds are hard to talk about.

"When you're ready then. I'm here,"

The taller brunette smiles at this and nods. She moves to leave but stops as she remembers something. "You'll have to fall in line though. Chloe made sure she's first to know,"

"Great, so I've been demoted," Beca mutters and the smirk on her face shows that she doesn't actually mind.

She watches Stacie walk towards the rest of their cousins, head held up as she puts on her red sunglasses and drapes her arm around Stella. They noisily leave, laughter echoing even with the growing distance and Beca sighs. It doesn't take long until a pair of arms snake around her middle from behind and wrap her in warmth.

Soft lips place gentle kisses on her neck and Beca turns around to catch those very lips with her own. When she opens her eyes to dazzling blue and a heart stopping smile. Beca couldn't help whispering words of love only reserved for her beloved.

"So it seems that we have the house to ourselves," Beca murmurs against the crook of Chloe's neck while the redhead hums in satisfaction.

"Because you scared them all into leaving," Chloe says and there's that sultry tone that only Beca has the pleasure of hearing.

Chloe has the innocence of a child but once you flick that switch off she lets out that side of hers, the one that drives Beca crazy, makes her weak and no, it's not a bad thing.

Not if it's Chloe.

They spend half the evening in their bubble of bliss until responsibilities scream at them and soon Beca's back to being the Queen. They've migrated to her office, freshly showered and busying themselves, Beca with her paperwork and Chloe with her laptop.

By now Jesse, Emily and Stella have made it back from their classes. The house now starting to fill up with the usual music and a cluttering of some sort coming from one of the rooms. It's still peaceful compared to when the twins are home until a knock comes at the door.

Nobody really knocks at Beca's office because usually she's in a bad mood dealing with people's shit all day and no one wants to get in the way of that. So, whoever this was and whatever the concern is must be extremely important.

"Enter," Beca distractedly says from her table while Chloe continues to type away some required essay paper on the sofa.

Jesse's head pops in the room but when no one looks up at him, he proceeds to speak, "You have a visitor," he says and this time Chloe looks up, eyes widening as she realizes that he is speaking to her.

"Who?" Beca hears her ask, disbelief in her tone.

After moving in the Du Pont residences, the only people that she really surrounds herself with are Beca and her cousins thus the surprise.

Jesse seems a bit fidgety and finally Beca looks up to see the usually most relaxed member of the Du Pont household looking serious as ever.

"It's better if you just meet… _her_ and uhm," he then looks at Beca uncertainly, "She also _requests an audience_ with you too," he says, seemingly quoting the person's own words and very formal at that too.

Suddenly, Beca doesn't really have a good feeling about this.

They both head downstairs, making their way to the garden where this mysterious visitor waits. But as soon as Chloe catches the shade of blonde, she gasps and hurries over to the girl.

"Bree!"

Jesse's discomfort finally makes sense and Beca wonders what Aubrey Posen would want from her. She guesses it's something political she needs to sign or a campaign for charity that she has to support because what else could it be?

Keeping herself back, she watches as Chloe launches herself at Aubrey and hugs her tightly. The sight clenches at her heart because she knows how close they are and how much her fiancée misses her family.

"What are you doing here?" Chloe says in wonder and happiness before it turns to concern. "Somebody might see you,"

Her words make Beca clench her fists because it makes her angry how badly Chloe had been easily discarded and shunned. That it's cruel to think that even her relatives aren't allowed to come to her lest they want to share the same fate. That even as she wears the crown, disputes and issues within a bloodline is something she cannot touch—unless a murder is involved.

"No, it's okay," Aubrey shakes her head before turning her focus towards Beca, courteously giving a bow in greeting.

"That's actually part of what I want to address right now," she begins as Beca steps forward, feeling like she needed to hear this one.

"With all the recent events that had happened," she swallows hard and Beca doesn't miss the way Chloe's shoulders sag.

"The elders had met and talked about having to take Thomas' right to be heir. He's been quite… unstable these past few weeks and seeking solace back in Italy," she slowly says and really, Beca isn't surprised. Rumors of the Thomas Vanderbilt succumbing to depression and bursts of insanity have been circulating these days.

Aubrey lifts her head up, now looking more confident, "Which is why I'm here today," and before she could explain further, Chloe beats her to it.

"You're the new heir!" she bursts out before lowering down into a much solemn tone. "And the Vanderbilts will be in good hands. There's nobody more deserving of that seat than you,"

With this news, Aubrey would ultimately be a part of the council and Beca may not have a smooth relationship with the Vanderbilts but at least this was much better than before. Chloe trusts Aubrey and that means Beca knows that she can be a good addition to the table.

Just as soon as she thought of this Aubrey proves it to be true.

"Which also means that your disownment has now been revoked," she breathes out with a smile towards Chloe. "I made sure it was the first thing I'd fix. It was unfair and unjust. We missed you, Chlo," the blonde says sincerely and Beca instantly feels the intense range of emotions out of Chloe.

The redhead bursts out in happy tears as she hugs Aubrey one more time before turning to Beca, her face beaming as she runs back into her arms. She wraps Chloe in a hug.

"We can get married now, Becs," she hears Chloe say over and over again.

However… something's still not right.

She looks up the older Vanderbilt and her heart falls at the lack of joy she sees. There's guilt and hesitation which Beca could clearly see having years training in studying people's expressions. It's as if she was about to change that happiness Chloe feels into the opposite.

It's as if…

"What's the catch?" she demands in a voice filled with dread, defenses hiking up despite the initial news.

Chloe stills in her arms before slowly detaching herself from Beca and looking back at Aubrey, holding her breath as the new head of the Vanderbilt house takes out a letter which by now both of them hate the sight of.

It looks exactly like the one that they received about the invalidity of their union even if they were to be soulmates, Vanderbilt symbol and all.

"Bree, what is it?" Chloe asks and it's painful to hear the fear in her voice.

Aubrey hands it over to Beca who cautiously opens it, words spilling in front of her eyes and in a few moments her face hardens.

"No, I won't allow it," she says in low voice, the struggle for control clearly audible while Chloe takes the letter from her hands and reads it herself, shaking her head in denial.

Aubrey, on the other hand maintains composure as she stands in front of them, "With Chloe being recognized as a Vanderbilt once more, there a terms to be met regarding this union from two powerful families that…" she pauses, choosing her words carefully.

"That has never happened before due to the unfortunate dispute, a dispute that should've been settled centuries ago and so, we've come to the agreement that—"

"No," Beca objects strongly. "I won't allow this!"

Chloe whips her head up at her with the sudden rise of her voice before turning to Aubrey.

"Bree, there has to be another way we can settle this," she softly pleads and Aubrey couldn't seem to look her in the eye at first before gathering her strength to do.

"I'm sorry Chlo. This is the best I can do," she firmly says before facing a fuming Beca once more.

"This is the only option we can give. Forgive me, your highness, but it's either the noble house of Du Pont agrees to it or we take back what is ours instead," she says, eyes falling over to Chloe.

"It's part of the law regarding royal unions and believe me, it's the only way to surely end this stupid war between our families,"

Beca shakes her head before snatching the paper from Chloe's hands. "I love Chloe and I also want to tear down that wall between our families, make no mistake about it. The heavens may fall but I will never agree to this!" Beca says furiously, shaking in anger as she throws the paper away and makes her way back inside the manor, passing by her stunned cousins.

Chloe follows her after a few minutes and as soon as the door of their room closes behind them, Beca tiredly hangs her head, fingers massaging her temples.

"Becs," Chloe softly says and when their eyes meet, Beca tries to say something, an apology or whatever only for Chloe to beat her to it.

"I understand. I've been there before, having given no choice at all. I will not make you choose. I would never,"

"Chlo, I'll fix this, okay? I will not let them take you away from me. I'll find a way," Beca finally speaks as Chloe pulls her close, embracing her and sinking into her arms.

"We. We will find a way,"

* * *

Stacie trudges back to the manor just before the sun rises. Her class ended hours ago yet going home and locking up in her room didn't seem like a good idea. She's done that for about a month now and it has even Beca concerned. So, after hours of wandering around aimlessly, trying to fall back into her usual routine, she gives up and heads home.

There was a party she had been invited to but twenty minutes in and she's out. Alcohol and sex couldn't help her. Also, the dancing is only making her feel worse. So she killed time watching the volleyball practices, hanging up at rooftops and playing games at the arcade. She'd choose the library if only it doesn't remind her of memories she's replayed in her head a million times now.

It's still a win though. She's made it to class and occupied herself with things she couldn't bring herself to do a month ago.

Now she just wants to curl back in bed and sleep. She's decided to take it one step at a time, slowly but surely. She doesn't have classes tomorrow so she plans to pack up her stuff since they are all headed back to France next week for the summer and maybe a change of scenery is what she really needs.

If only the week just speeds up.

Entering the manor, she was about to yell a greeting when she notes the lack of screaming and laughing which is very strange if you are walking into a Du Pont house. At this time, everyone should be eating at the table and everyone knows how messy that could be. Certainly not this kind of silence where she could only catch soft hushed voices making the atmosphere gloomy.

"I'm home!" She calls out, making her way to the dining area where, much to her surprise, all her cousins are to be found.

What's even more alarming is how depressing they all look. Chloe looks up at her arrival and those sad baby blues are enough to make her mourn.

She already feels like shit and having everyone feeling like shit is not helping her.

" _Mon dieu_! Have we run out of our blood supply?" she dramatically exclaims which should start all the snorting and groaning but all she gets is… nothing.

Nothing but silence.

"Alright, so just words then. We've… run out of words," she says, her voice faltering as the atmosphere remains just as it is, gloomy.

"C'mon guys, is this a prank? 'Cause I'm not enjoying it even if that's the goal of a prank,"

Stacie hates gloomy. It stresses her out and gives her migraines.

"Stace," Chloe weakly says and suddenly her sister, Stella, rushes to hug her.

That's when it dawns on her that something is really, really wrong. Stella doesn't do hugs publicly. She's affectionate with Stacie with the two of them being close but most of the time their form of affection is usually a fond side hug or playful shoving. And now her sister is crying and Stacie doesn't understand why. It's already becoming frustrating.

But before she could scream for an answer, Beca, who is standing still in a corner sighs heavily and speaks up.

"Stace, I need to talk to you. Now," her tone is grave and she already expects the worse.

Gently prying Stella's arms off of her with assurances that she'd be back and that whatever it is isn't something to cry about.

Maybe she spoke too soon but she's always been someone who finds ways to turn things into something positive. If she can make shirt stained with watercolors look cool then she can turn anything to her favor.

"What's wrong?" she asks the minute she and Beca get some privacy in Beca's office.

Her cousin hesitates for a moment, composing her thoughts before finally letting them be known, "Chloe has been welcomed back to her family. She's now recognized as a Vanderbilt again,"

"That's great! That means the wedding is happening and that she's going to be your Queen! So, what's with the dark clouds outside?" she motions to the door with her fingers.

Beca's serious expression doesn't lighten up however and she feels like there's something she's not placing together.

Because of course, it's all too easy and anything regarding the crown is never easy, that, she's learned from Beca herself.

Her cousin glances down at a crumpled letter on her table, "Given our family's history, this marriage will mark the union of two rival families for the first time,"

Beca finally lifts her head up to look at her, "Chloe is going to be a Du Pont so they demand that we give them one of our own as a symbol of friendship and a promise of a stronger union between families,"

" _Quoi_?! That's stupid! Are we like goods to be exported now? Surely, their meaning of friendship is far from ours—or from everyone else, to be honest. And if we decline?" she asks, imagining just how horrible it is, to marry someone without love.

The answer is already obvious in Beca's face and Stacie shakes her head in disbelief.

"Of course, they'd do that," she sighs before a thought comes to mind. "This is how they get back at us, isn't it? Making us suffer,"

"They gave a name," Beca breaks her silence. "The Du Pont they want," she explains at Stacie's confused look.

And that's when it finally dawns on her, what it all means, what everyone seems to weighing in their minds about. Her legs suddenly feel weak and her stomach twisting badly.

"Who… who did…"

Beca looks away and the world is spinning.

"It's me," she mumbles in realization. "It's me they want, isn't it?" she says quietly as her eyes fall to the paper in Beca's desk, the words written beautifully as opposed to the message it bears.

From where she stands, all she could clearly make out were those big bold letters.

 _ **Anastacia Cerise Conrad.**_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _ **Joyeux anniversaire à mon amour, Anna Kendrick !**_

Or

 **Happy Birthday Anna Kendrick!**

It must be fate that I literally finished writing on her birthday and because it's this sweetheart's day of birth I'm on festive mood and high on something (sugar and some seasonings from that baked chicken). In short, I'm tired but so very happy... which has always been a good combination. You're living life if you are tired and happy, darlings ;)

 **And oh god, this chapter is long! And wtf the next chapter is just as long!**

 **Revelations everywhere. Stefan coming back to haunt the real dickswab and kick him right where it hurts! Protecting his sister even in the after life. Chloe is so good at aiming Mister Dickswab like, damn! Beca always following her love's orders. Queen Beca fighting in her Louboutins and Chanel gown is the definition of classy. And a baby Du Pont! How cute is that? Cabe O. Bridges certainly finds it cute.**

 **Shit! The title isn't part of the lyrics anymore because I ran out of lyrics!**

But really, it is about waiting in between worlds now.

 **Stacie Conrad in exchange for Chloe Beale? Aphrodite's problematic child is hanging in between happy and miserable. This is about to get bloody, sweaty and tearful. The Vanderbilts aren't making it easy for the Du Ponts at all. How is this going to end?** (It ends in a period)

These are officially the last few chapters. Hold on tight, loves.


	30. And Maybe You, Change Your Mind

**Chapter 29**

* * *

"I've always wanted to see Italy," Stacie asks, words slipping out softly before she rolls her head to the left.

Beca doesn't look at her, half-lidded eyes finding interest up at the intricate designs carved on the ceiling instead.

Hours after the unfortunate news, they've both gotten drunk on Stacie's perfectly concocted drink called Adios Motherfucker, their empty glasses sitting in between them while the ingredients to said drink are scattered all over the place. Aware that problems like this aren't to be solved with alcohol, they tried the healthy approach earlier but when it doesn't stop the urge to spiral into a breakdown, Beca's prying open her extensive alcohol stash and Stacie ended up mixing said drink because they make a good team when it comes to consuming bad things.

The perfect drink, as she's described, for a special shitty day like this that will most likely infect the next coming weeks—or forever. So she doesn't hold back on pouring Rum, Vodka, Gin, Tequila, some blue stuff and other stuff into their glasses, muttering curses after gulping down said drink.

So now, there they were, lying down the floor of Beca's office, wasted and pouring out emotional sentiments that they would never say if sober.

"You're going home with us, in France," Beca replies lazily.

"What if it's Tom? I don't want to marry that pig… an angry pig with daddy issues," she frowns in disgust and Beca snorts.

"I won't let that happen, Stace,"

"Ugh, the sex will be horrible," she groans before her eyes go wide with horror, "Or he can't even get _it_ up and I'm doomed to live the life of a hermit! I'll be a nun and I'm going to the convent!"

"He's not getting his slimy fingers on you," Beca slams down, in a drunk kind of a way.

"But there's that hot general uncle of theirs, right? Was it Ferdinand or Finn? Maybe he's available for some sinful activities," she relaxes back down, biting on her lower lip.

"Franco. He's married. Three kids,"

"No!" she wails. "Why are all the good ones taken?"

"Because life likes to fuck people in the ass," Beca sighs.

"Life is one kinky bastard,"

"Tell them that. Grab the mic on one of their boring parties and yell it out loud,"

"Maybe if I go unleash my wild side they'll hate me enough to ship me back," she mumbles before giggling at all the nasty ideas she's come up in her head.

"Maybe I should just kill them. Off with all their heads,"

"Okay, psychopath, let's not go there and besides, I don't like that movie. Alice in Wonderland is clearly a euphemism for getting high on drugs,"

Laughter bursts out in Beca's lips and Stacie is joining her a second later. When it dies down, silence overtakes it until the reality of what's to come starts to consume them once more.

"I'll talk to them. Settle another kind of agreement that doesn't involve you or any of our family members being forced into anything they don't want to do. If somebody has to suffer it should be me," Beca says and it quickly calls upon the tears Stacie's been trying to hold back all day.

"Or we could just agree to it," she quietly replies, eyes staring hard at a white dot on the ceiling.

When Beca shakes her head and prepares to assure her, she beats her to it, "I love you," she blurts out and her cousin stills.

"I love you and all our family. And if I have to do it for Stella, for Emily, for the twins, for Jesse _and_ for Chloe, I'll do it in a heartbeat. If I need to be in Italy for you to finally get the happiness you clearly deserve, then I can leave now, right here and then,"

"And how does my cousin being forced to marry someone for the sake of my happiness make me happy?" Beca throws right back at her, eyes filled with anger and hurt but Stacie slowly sits up, legs crossed as she looks down at her.

"It's like you don't know me at all, Becs. I'll thrive in wherever anyone puts me in. You said it yourself, I'm the strongest Du Pont,"

"I _know_ you," Beca emphasizes word for word as she sits up as well, arms resting on her knees, turning her head to look at her. "And that's the problem. I know how much you thrive on affection and love, _real_ love. You believe in meet-cutes, slow motion moments, of fate and destiny more than anyone in the world. You're a walking romantic novel, Stacie Conrad, and that is why I'm never going to let this happen,"

Beca gets up and walks out of the office, leaving her decision to 'fix this' final and Stacie wonders when all of this would end. She's so exhausted, physically and emotionally yet there just seems to be no rest for her heart.

Her cousin was right, she thrives on love but then love isn't only reserved for romantic interests. It's a word that carries so much more to it than just that. Stacie loves and that love bleeds for the people she cares about the most.

She opens the door to her sister's and Emily's room. The girls are now sleeping soundly but Stacie's heart drops at the sight of her sister, eyes puffy and tissues loitering the side of her bed from all the crying. She knows that out of everyone it's her sister that's affected by this news the most. Stella always looked up to her, wanting to do the same things she's done and even though they may annoy each other, like any other siblings, they had each other's backs.

Crossing over to her sister's bed, she quietly crawls on top of it and lies down, wrapping her arms around Stella from behind. In the quiet of the day just before the sun sets, she lets her tears fall, broken sobs muffled against cottony pillows.

For the first time, she prays that the goddess of love would understand why she stopped fighting for her heart.

* * *

The sky is perfect tonight. The stars are shining brightly and Stacie looks up to smile at them. Jesse's big end of the school year party is obviously a success and half of Victor Barden's West Wing occupants are present. Blood, alcohol and food are overflowing while the music is pumping, the bass mixing with the beat of her heart. It surely feels like home. The noise, the laughter, the yelling and spur of the moment pool diving—Chloe's idea, raising up Beca's murderous side because soaked, see-through clothing and drunk, horny vampires is a bad mix. Stacie had to laugh when everyone crowding—ogling—the pool scrambles away like mice when her cousin stands up to eye them in a deadly manner.

Resting her head on Jesse's shoulder, she sighs, reveling in the moment of pure bliss.

"They've agreed to meet up tomorrow, the Vanderbilts," Jesse tells her after a minute of silence and Stacie hums, eyes falling over to her right where her sister is sitting.

Stella hasn't left her side all week, always next to her wherever they go and it's understandable so she doesn't say anything. Also, because she does need the company to keep her thoughts occupied.

But tonight was about having fun and her sister needs it.

"Please stop playing mother hen, be a teenager again and dance 'till you break or I'll call Chloe and have her push you down that pool. We'll be back in France in two days and your last two days of freedom shouldn't be wasted with your ass heating up that chair," she demands as they both glance at the redhead who has successfully pulled Beca down the water.

If Chloe has the dark broody Queen clumsily splashing into the pool resulting in the royal crown's security rushing over in panic from their hidden positions then no one is safe.

Stella is smart not to question that so she reluctantly gets up to join her friends.

The twins have spiked the drinks and are now shirtless, bodies smeared with red paint while playing music like rock stars in a rock festival. Earlier they have teamed up to smother her with hugs, unwanted hugs to be exact and really, they may still be the irritating but Stacie knows that they're just trying to make her smile—or scream in frustration.

"You should get up too and woo someone for some end of the school year steamy one-night love affair," she mutters to Jesse, nudging him gently with her shoulder as he smiles.

"Shouldn't you be doing that? It's my turn to be sober since Beca already has her hands full," he says before sighing at the sight of Beca giving a very excited Chloe a piggy back ride across the pool, "Redheads are wild," he adds with a smile.

Stacie chuckles and shakes her head, "So what, go get drunk, nothing's going to happen. And let them be, those two deserve to be wildly in love,"

Jesse stands and she thinks he'll heed her words but he holds on to her hands instead, "We all deserve to be wildly in love. Now, join me and lose control. It's our last two days of freedom!"

He pulls her to her feet and drags her to where the party is _wild_. She puts her arms around both Emily and her sister as they jump around to the beat. There's shots being downed in one go and then they're cheering loudly in delight. When the twins abandon the stage, they are all soon jumping in the pool with Beca and Chloe, all fully clothed and starting water wars with each other.

Stacie will never forget that night, the experience, the feeling and the comforting company of friends and of family.

She holds on to the memory, getting courage and strength from it as she looks down at the one-way airplane ticket to Italy. A trip that is scheduled tonight.

The house is filled with silence now, the aftermath of their party blowing all over their manor. They've all ended up passing out in the living room floor except for Beca and Chloe—who seemed to have had an _after party_ of their own in their bedroom.

Stacie is not dumb. She knows the Vanderbilts will never settle for any other arrangement. They are being summoned by the Queen and obviously, they must comply but it doesn't mean that they would budge. The last thing she wants is Beca sacrificing her status to kneel down and beg for her sake.

If her last act of selflessness destroys that wall between the two families to pave the way for the future Vanderbilts and Du Ponts to live in peace then all of this wouldn't entirely be in vain. She looks at Emily, the thought of her growing relationship with Scott in her mind. One of the youngest Du Ponts admits it's a special friendship and Stacie knows there's no need to push. They can take their time and figure everything out for themselves. And when the time comes that they do, their union wouldn't be difficult. It'd be out of their own will, at the right time and met without objections or forced arrangements. At least, if ever any other Du Ponts cross to the Vanderbilts side, she'd make sure that they'd feel welcome. That it would still feel like home.

Tightening her hold on her luggage, she glances back at her cousins before returning to give a kiss on top of her sister's head, eyeing the letter she wrote for her sitting on the coffee table.

Having put on her blazing red leather jacket, she's just about to wear her red sunglasses when she hears noise from where she is standing in the foyer. Stopping, she listens as light footsteps make its way downstairs. Backing up to a corner, she stands still until she sees Chloe passing her by, speed-walking towards the door with her phone clutched tightly on one hand.

The redhead, having seemed to feel her presence from behind, pauses abruptly before turning to her. There's a playful smirk on Stacie's face and it's because she knows exactly what Beca's fiancée is up to. If there's one other person who knows about selflessness and courage, it has to be this walking ray of sunshine.

"Morning run?" she supplies, eyeing Chloe's definitely not for running attire—a simple flowery dress matched with cute blue flats.

"Uhm, uhh yeah…" Chloe, obviously lying, fumbles for an alibi but it's completely lost when her big bright blue eyes land towards her travelling bag, the one she's resting her elbows in.

"Where are you going?" there's dread in her voice and Stacie doesn't blame her, Chloe's pretty quick when it comes to figuring things out too. Gabin's apparently been sending her delicious desserts to woo her into joining the investigative department.

So she shrugs and looks down at the address, "Pescia, Tuscany. In—I'm not sure if I'm saying it right though—Viale Ga—,"

"Garibaldi," Chloe supplies, the name rolling out of her tongue with ease and how could it not when it's where Chloe has spent most of her childhood and summer vacations in.

"Ah, right. Is it going to be cold there this time of the year or is this alright" she gestures to her short shorts, midriff top and red leather jacket. "And by the way, what's the Italian for, 'Damn, that's hot' and 'I'm starving'. I need to know the important phrases,"

"Stace," Chloe shakes her head before meeting her eyes, "I should be the one brushing up on my French and the only time you are ever going to Italy is if _I_ take you there on a vacation where we'll be drinking wine, stuffing ourselves with really good authentic Italian pizza, riding gondolas, posing funny pictures at the Leaning Tower of Pisa like every god damn tourist does and showing you fun places where I dragged Aubrey to,"

Stacie watches the passion fire up in the Vanderbilt's eyes and only after a couple of seconds does she reply, "Did you just do the infamous Italian gesture?" she jokingly teases, copying Chloe as she brings her fingers together.

"I'm serious, Stacie!" Chloe huffs in frustration and Stacie bites her tongue before she could tease some more, the smile slowly dying in her lips.

"Will you take care of them for me? Watch out for the twins and make sure that Stella… that she'll be okay. That she'll know why I did it, why I left," she exhales heavily, observing the mixture of emotions clearly passing on the Vanderbilt's face. Chloe's always been expressive.

"Beca will talk to them today. I will convince Aubrey to find something, anything to turn this thing around, Stace. We're working on it and you just have to trust us, okay?" Chloe desperately says before bringing up her phone then mumbling distractedly to herself,

"Although she's probably still on the plane and won't be answering my phone calls but I'll try, she should be landing in Florence by now,"

The Vanderbilts had all went to Italy, considering that it's only Aubrey, Arthur and Scott that were left in their Victor Barden manor. Claire had already joined her brother back in Italy weeks ago. Through Chloe, she knows that the Posen siblings had took separate flights since Arthur left the other day and well, Scott and Aubrey, as it seems, are just arriving.

Her chest tightens at the thought of _her_.

 _Not now_ , she tells herself as she clears her throat and puts a hand over Chloe's wrist to stop her from re-dialing Aubrey's number, the number which Stacie still has memorized and saved on her own phone, the one she's hidden under the name, _Chocolate_ , because she found out about Aubrey's love for chocolate one day when she casually offered her some. How unforgettable the look of excitement in her eyes grew like a kid opening presents on Christmas day and how…

 _Carefree and happy she was._

"You have to watch out for Beca too because you know how she is when she gets upset, she goes down that dark place and believe me you're the only who can pull her out of it,"

"Stace it's—"

"It's going to be this way, Chloe. It has to," she presses on, moving forward to give Chloe a hug, blinking back her tears. "They aren't going to understand. They're going to be mad. Jesse is probably going to cry like a baby and everyone's going to feel like shit but that's why you're here. It's up to _you_ now. Beca can't handle this all on her own so you go and be you, you adorable fluffy being. I'm counting on you, Chloe. I'm counting on you to let them know that I am happy to do this for them, for you and for Beca. That this, this is how I love," she pulls away to wipe Chloe's tear stained cheeks.

"I'm still invited to the wedding right? 'Cause you're invited to mine,"

"Of course you are!" Chloe sniffs, wiping away her own tears.

"This doesn't mean goodbye, silly," she says, playfully nudging the redhead with her shoulder. Chloe nods and Stacie knows that she's leaving them in good hands. "We'll all still be seeing each other when school comes around. You'll visit me in Italy because we need to do all those things you just said and they can't stop me from visiting you in France, okay? It's all good!" she puts her hands on both Chloe's shoulders.

There's conviction in her words and she likes to believe that it's all going to pull through perfectly. That it's all going to be fine _. Even if she's not really sure she will be._

"I'll always be a Du Pont like you'll always be a Vanderbilt. We're all family now so smile. I hate tearful 'see you laters'," she reminds her and finally Chloe's lips curve upwards.

They hug again, this time tighter before Stacie heads for the door only to stop at Chloe's words.

"Aubrey… she,"

Stacie slowly turns to her, afraid of what she'll say, afraid that her words are going to re-open hidden wounds.

"She called you that night when I escaped with Emily's help. The night I got disowned, it was you Aubrey called wasn't it?"

And because Stacie doesn't do lies she answers, "Yes,"

She doesn't know if Chloe has some sort of sixth or seventh sense when she smiles knowingly but doesn't say anything else and Gabin should probably level up his efforts because the redhead will solve a lot of cases.

Once she steps outside, she looks back at Chloe and smiles.

"Later, Chlo Chlo,"

"See you later, Stace,"

* * *

"Welcome to Italy, Miss Conrad,"

The man, formally dressed from head to toe, who introduced himself as Davide greets her as soon as she steps out of the airport's arrival gate. After almost 15 hours, she's drained and longing for a warm bath. The travel time is slightly a little longer than her usual trips to Paris but she still feels like collapsing down the floor right then and there. She blames her lack of sleep despite flying on business class.

Guess, everything is just starting to sink in.

Davide seems nice, very approachable and eager to show her what is what as he escorts her to the waiting limousine. Who knew that one day she'd actually get to step in a Vanderbilt limousine? Weird.

Her eyes stay glued out at every place they pass by, watching the vibrant culture Italy is proud of. Now if she wasn't tired, she'd be capturing Instagram worthy photos. The thought that this would be her home now gives her a mixture of emotions.

Home, she misses her _real_ home.

Soon, there's less of the modern city outside and more of wide lands, properties of the rich as Davide explains. The architecture is splendid but then it doesn't really surprise her. France is full of splendid architecture as well.

The limousine slows down and Stacie suddenly feels nervous. This would actually be the night when she meets the person she'd most likely spend this lifetime with. So, she's nervous as hell.

Hopefully, the Vanderbilts aren't so cruel to pair her up with the least attractive cousin or the unmarried uncle… or the angry pig with daddy issues.

The vehicle comes to a stop and Stacie gazes up the huge mansion—50 bedrooms according to Davide—that must have been centuries old. Outside, the garden is massive with two huge circular fountains. It's excessively luxurious even for someone like Stacie. Chloe wasn't exaggerating about how wealthy the Vanderbilts in Italy are.

But what really makes her heart drop is the person waiting outside for her.

Arthur Posen.

Even Aphrodite is unable to save her, as it turns out.

"I'm going to be a nun," she mutters sorrowfully to herself as she eyes the youngest Posen.

Stacie is not blind. Even before Aubrey had told her that Arthur is exclusively attracted to men, Stacie already knew he was gay. Nobody has a hairstyle as perfectly polished as that and be straight.

It's laughable, how her situation turned out. So here she was, arranged to be married to a—the _wrong_ —Posen after all. The one who doesn't even want women. But it's not bad really, he's going to be a lawyer one day which means he's not the spoiled and lazy to work type. Studying law is hard so he's going to be busy even after he graduates which means less interaction. Although, Stacie is not ruling out the option of them becoming good friends in the long run. Who knows? Maybe they could exchange style ideas, gossip about men and paint each other's nails.

Fun.

All those thoughts vanish abruptly however, when she spots the Posen household's matriarch, Caterina Posen in her most regal stance from one of the mansion's first floor windows, looking down at her like she's bacteria.

Some in-laws are just nightmares and hers is most likely the nightmare of all nightmares.

"Great," she internally groans before walking up to Arthur who is kind enough to take one of her bags while the rest were left to his assistants. They both head up the steps and into the house.

"Buona sera," she greets Caterina politely, or as politely as she's ever been, with what she has learned from one of those in-flight magazines.

However, Arthur's mother neither replies nor smiles. Guess that's where Aubrey gets her icy glare. Instead, Caterina looks her up and down like she's in some modeling audition and then just leaves without a word, her assistants trailing behind her.

"This way," Arthur breaks the silence as she turns around to find him motioning over to the opposite direction.

Following him, she lets out a breath, "Wow, that was, uhm, the warmest welcome I've ever received," she comments sarcastically as he shakes his head, a thin smile in his lips.

"You'll have to get used to that. You're lucky someone's already managed to emotionally exhaust her by pissing her off earlier and now she's… calm," he explains as he takes her to one of the rooms.

"That's calm?" she asks softly in disbelief.

She was about to comment about how calm is not looking like you want to hang someone upside down where Nile crocodiles swim below when a loud crash echoes from one of the upper floors making her chest jump. They both pause, looking up at the ceiling. In a second, there's another violent bang before silence occupies the whole mansion again. Looking back at Arthur, who shrugs and proceeds to walk, Stacie frowns, clutching her handbag to her chest and looking around for any sign of harm before rushing to follow the younger Posen.

"Sorry about that," Arthur apologizes, sounding like it's something of a regular occurrence in the house. He turns to the right and Stacie eyes the dreary looking dark hallways. "Thomas... hasn't been himself ever since but don't worry about that,"

Horror films must've had gotten inspirations from this mansion and now she is questioning her decision to pull through with this arrangement because clearly, this is like being exiled to the Amityville horror house. The Du Ponts have their centuries old mansions but they are nothing like this at all. They've had a lot of architects and engineers in the family that their mansions have had changes through the years in order to get with the times. Something this place really needs.

" _Calm_ seems to run in the family," she mutters as they finally enter a room. It was nice, fancy and all with the classic furniture but really not her taste. She's most likely to change it though so that's not really a permanent problem.

Maybe she could try to find a way to get the whole mansion re-painted into a happier color. Some cute, homey decor would work too. And now she wonders if they've even put up any Christmas decorations last December. The thought of a young Aubrey and Arthur spending their childhood in such a gloomy atmosphere feels depressing. She could see a seven year old Aubrey running happily through the hallways only to be scolded by her mother because 'running isn't for ladies' and proceed to have her go back to her room to study or practice playing piano.

A thought suddenly enters her mind and her tongue itches to let it out.

"Is Aubrey here?" she weakly asks, the temptation to big for her to resist. She can't help it.

The question has Arthur's brow arching up after he stops to look at her curiously, arms crossing in front of him. "And why are you looking for her?" he asks in a tone that Stacie can't decipher if it's something positive or negative.

Stacie hates lying but she also doesn't think that now is the time to cause problems with her future husband. Having to find out that your future wife has had intimate, _very intimate,_ nights with your sister isn't a good start if you want to have a successful marriage.

"U-Uhm, she's the new head of the house, right? I just... wanted to get in her good side," she says, tripping over her words a bit and lying isn't really healthy for her. It's like she's about to get sun fever.

The younger Posen studies her for a couple of moments before nodding his head making it possible for Stacie to exhale and breathe again.

"Don't think too much about that. I'll let you rest for a bit. We have a long trip later, in an hour or two, so it's best to freshen up and eat before we travel," Arthur tells her and Stacie swiftly looks back at him in surprise.

"Where are we going?"

Anywhere but here, she'd extremely appreciate.

"Castiglione," he simply says as if she should know this by now but due to the lost look in her face he adds, "Castiglione della Pescaia. Still in Tuscany. It's a couple of hours away by car. Well, that is if you'd prefer staying here with my mother breathing down your neck twenty-four seven?"

That breaks her stupor and she's nodding eagerly, "Right, no, I don't want that," Silence then, "Can we leave in an hour though?" she asks hopefully and when he mumbles with an , _'Understandable'_ , she finds that maybe this arrangement can work after all.

Turns out, she only needs twenty minutes in the shower and fifteen minutes of eating before she's letting the assistants know that she's ready. Nobody can blame her if the walls feel like Caterina's cold eyes watching her every move.

Surprisingly, Arthur takes the wheel of what seems to be his own private car, a gold Lamborghini Aventador—which is of course very Italian—and Stacie is more than eager to hop in. She doesn't even look back as they drive off with two escort security cars, relieved to be staying far away from Caterina.

Their trip stretches to about almost two and a half hours. The sight of various places which Arthur points out has her excited for a much proper tour in the coming days. She's already contemplating calling Chloe as they almost reach their destination.

The surroundings are lush green and the town looked very peaceful and full of color that if she were on a vacation right now she'd want to stay forever. Sticking her hand out the window, she feels the warm breeze and breathes in the scent of the ocean. She wonders why they never took summer trips to Italy because this right here would've been one of the best vacations.

Of course, deep down she knows why.

It's the same reason why the Vanderbilts don't go to France.

They go off the main road and in a couple of minutes, Stacie is staring at the place she'd soon call home. The villa wasn't as big as the mansion earlier but it was really pretty and much more modern. There's a flight of cobbled steps you have to take to get to the main house but she's not really bothered by a little exercise. Her body might very well have been sculpted by the gods but that doesn't mean she can maintain it like that without hitting the gym.

As soon as she reaches the top what takes her breath away is the view overlooking the ocean. As if it isn't enough, there's an infinity pool near the edge and to be honest, it's like this little piece of paradise away from the noise, the drama, the problems and even the pollution. She's already envisioning having tea every evening on one of those chair hammocks by the pool when Arthur calls her name.

"Your bags are already up in your room," he says after having a quick tour of the place downstairs. "So, now that everything's all settled, I'll be on my way,"

His words snaps her from her thoughts and suddenly she feels like she hasn't been given the memo because now Arthur is leaving.

"Wait, you aren't going to live here?" she asks, the prospect of having the place to herself rather than the thought that her husband to be isn't keen on sleeping under the same room as her, makes this situation much better.

"Absolutely not. I doubt your betrothed would want that and I hate to be the third wheel in this matrimonial home so, best of luck and I'd like to say 'Welcome to the family' but I'll save it until after the wedding," he says in a matter-of-fact tone before looking up to whoever it is behind her.

"Fiancée delivered and handled with care just as you requested. My job is done, I'm out. Have fun, don't call me tomorrow because I'll be on a date and please don't kill each other even though I'd very much want to see her kick your ass," he sighs before leaving, one hand waving goodbye in the air.

"Thanks Art," the voice behind her speaks and Stacie freezes.

Her heart beat accelerates and when she looks around to find the source, suddenly she feels like hiding or running away, far from everything.

Because it hurts.

It hurts how beautiful she still is. How the fabric of her dress perfectly molds her curves. How those eyes haven't lost the power to pull her and hold her still. How those lips still keep calling her for a _taste_. How her heart still…

"Aubrey,"

It's strange, uttering that name after quite a while. She remembers going to extremes just to avoid her because she fears that the mere sight of the Vanderbilt would just make her cave, to give in to the urge to go to her and break her promise of staying away.

"Stacie," the Vanderbilt smiles lightly before adding, "How was… the flight?"

It's a poor attempt of stalling the awkwardness and Stacie quickly decides to help her. If anything, she doesn't want the Vanderbilt to feel in any way uncomfortable in her own home.

 _Home_. It suddenly occurs to her that this is more or less the property Aubrey had talked to her about before everything… ended. This was that quiet villa she was given as a graduation gift by her grandfather. The one she goes to whenever she wants to get away from her overbearing mother. The one that you could see the ocean from a distance and be comforted by the beauty it offers.

"It was great. If you don't count those incidents regarding snoring and farting in confined spaces but no worries, I survived all that. Also, your mother is super charming. A woman of… very, _very_ few words," she grimaces at the thought and that's enough to make Aubrey's smile widen.

Her heart almost explodes at the sight.

"I'm sorry about that. Glad to know you passed through her unscathed. Not many people have been lucky," she nods, "I would have picked you up at the airport but I got caught up with some important matters," she suddenly explains even though personally, Stacie doesn't know why and somehow, she looked nervous.

She didn't have to feel that way though and it only makes Stacie guilty because she knows she's causing it. Because she made everything difficult the moment she confessed her feelings.

"Have you eaten yet? I've actually just arrived a couple of minutes before you came and I was about to grab something to eat,"

The offer is really tempting and months ago, Stacie would have eagerly said yes but then it is wishful thinking to interpret Aubrey's tone into something close to hopeful. The truth is Aubrey is polite and being polite is offering people these things for the sake of their comfort.

"Oh I'm already full. I don't know what kind of bribe you've given your brother before this but, contrary to popular belief, he has actually been a good host and fed me before the trip," she says, keeping her tone light and natural as much as possible.

"Actually, I'd really like to get some rest. It's been a really long day," she adds and before she knows it Aubrey is leading the way to her room.

Trailing behind, she inhales only to get a whiff of the Vanderbilt's perfume and images of those evenings waking up next to her cloud her head. It's strange to feel a million of things for one person yet be unable to act upon it.

When she enters her room, she takes note of the beautiful art hanging on the walls, all her favorites. It's cozy, that's the first thing that comes to mind as her gaze wanders to the bed, inviting and comfy. The colors are warm and she appreciates the small touch of France in some certain pieces—that Eiffel Tower pillow is cute. Needless to say everything meets her taste. As if she herself had decorated it.

 _As if someone really cared to consider her preferences._

"I wasn't sure how you'd like to decorate your room. If you want to change or add anything feel free to do so," Aubrey breaks her thoughts and again she hears it, the discomfort in her tone. She doesn't even turn around to know that the Vanderbilt is fidgeting—which must be a Vanderbilt habit in all awkward situations since Chloe does the same thing too.

"It's nice. I like it. Well, so much better than that holding room back at your mother's place. Thank you," she genuinely says and it earns another smile.

The air between them slowly goes back to that stifling awkwardness and by the looks of it, Aubrey's about to bring up the one thing Stacie is trying to avoid. It's too early for things as heavy as that but she also knows that the quicker they get it out of their chest, the better.

"Stace I just—"

"I'm not mad at you," she blurts out in the calmest way possible and she wonders why she hasn't won awards yet for 'best in feigning nonchalance'.

She sits down the edge of the bed, seemingly testing its 'bounce factor'—wherein which she softly bounces her ass on top of cushions to test how comfy they are—and finds that it's the queen of all beds with how perfect it feels.

"I'm the safe choice," she follows just a moment later before Aubrey could say otherwise _because she doesn't want to hurt Stacie's feelings_.

She eyes the soft fabric, running her hands along it as she gives Aubrey a light smile. "I'm not saying I am but I'm probably the most Vanderbilt qualified out of all my cousins. I've got the looks, the body and most importantly, the brains," she points out playfully before settling her eyes back on the interior of the room.

"What I mean is, I'm glad I'm not marrying your brother 'cause we all know that this," she motions over to her long legs, "Is something he will _never_ appreciate and I'm pretty sure that you find yourself lucky not to be paired to one of the twins for obvious reasons. Or Emily because then Scott is going to hate you for all eternity. Or my sister because she's got so much sass that you're going to age so fast with her as your wife," she rolls her eyes at the thought.

"Or Jesse because," she pauses at that because it makes her wonder. "Actually, you and Jesse might get along. You can plan social affairs together. He's lovable, if you get pass his addiction to those dramatic movies and series he binges every night," she sighs fondly at the thought.

"Besides," she adds, "At least, we're already familiar with each other's bedroom habits so, there's that,"

Aubrey looked like her cheeks could match the shade of red on Stacie's jacket and she remembers how adorable it was, teasing her.

 _Maybe they could at least be friends._

"I'm just saying that you don't really have to put so much effort. I'm open to everything. If there's something I need to do, change or some rules to follow then I'm willing to comply. And also, thank you for finding a way for Beca and Chloe to be together. I know you care for Chloe as much as I care for Beca. If this is the only way for that wedding to happen then I'll do it," she swallows hard.

"And I'm… I'm sorry, that it had to be this way,"

 _Sorry that now you have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life whether you like it or not._

Somehow, the Vanderbilt looked like she was going to say something, a frown passing her features after saying everything she's said and Stacie decides that discussing this situation any longer would break her further.

Fearing that Aubrey's next words could most likely be a string of apologies or something similar to _'I know that you're in love with me and the sex is good but I don't feel the same way even if we are bound to be tied to each other in this lifetime'_ which is going to literally kill her. So, she quickly jumps ahead before any of that could be said to save herself.

"Wow. I really need to sleep. I guess I'm just going to pass out here for a couple of hours," she breathes out. "And this bed is calling me,"

There's conflict and disappointment in Aubrey's eyes but Stacie isn't entirely sure because apparently, when it comes to her she reads everything wrong.

 _Like the time she thought Aubrey might actually feel the same way only to find that once bloodline reputation and responsibilities come calling, she's easily discarded to the side._

Ultimately, her act is bought and Aubrey seems to have thought twice about it, "Okay, if you need anything—"

"I'll let you know," she quickly assures her even though all she planned to do is stay inside her room for as long as she can.

The door closes and finally she shakily releases the breath she's been holding all this time, eyes closed to stop the tears as she places a hand to her wildly beating heart.

It's been more than a month.

It shouldn't hurt this much anymore.

 _But she must never tell Aubrey that._

* * *

 **Two weeks ago.**

 **Vanderbilt Manor, Victor Barden.**

Aubrey sighs heavily, massaging her temples as voices of her relatives argue over the video conference call they are having. They were all miles away from her yet it still feels like they were all at the same room. She's exhausted, mentally. It doesn't help that prior to this drama, she's already emotionally drained. Sleeping was hard and her focus lost to matters that are not about politics or college. The mess in her head has been going on for a month but despite that she has responsibilities to hold. So, back to the drama.

The ongoing argument?

Beca and Chloe's union.

Turns out, the house of Vanderbilt has suddenly been divided into two. One side in favor of having a Vanderbilt sharing the crown. The other, against said union and are bent on calling Chloe an outcast due to her actions many moons ago.

"She's not considered as a part of this family the moment she left! And even if she is, this only means that her loyalty will ultimately be towards the Du Ponts! This is not going to benefit us at all and we are going to have a Queen marrying an outcast! Vanderbilt blood mixing with a Du Pont!"

Aubrey grits her teeth at the offensive term but keeps her mouth shut. Leaders are supposed to be neutral and should be open to listening to every side.

"And what about their child? Sooner or later, they're going to have one. That child, whether you like it or not, is both Du Pont and Vanderbilt which makes him or her powerful! A child carrying two bloodlines that have never united before. Think about it? It'll benefit us all!"

Okay, maybe the side in favor's motives are as _outrageous_ as the opposition but at least it's a much better option.

"That's the point, they're going to have a child! Or children! Children which would gain so much advantage in votes once they have a turn at the high seat then eventually, the throne and whose flag do you think they'd carry? Of course, it's going to be red!"

Aubrey gives another heavy sigh as her gaze wanders far away, back into forest green eyes that sometimes turn gray, dark brown tresses swaying under strobe lights and the safety of relaxing arms where she could sink into forever without any worries of being judged or corrected. She can just be… herself.

"Aubrey,"

"Huh?" she abruptly tunes back in to find herself at the center of everyone's attention.

"What's your verdict on the matter?" one of her uncles asks, looking exasperated at her lack of interest but is unable to do anything. She holds the final say in everything now.

She looks at expectant faces, one of them, her mother's and Aubrey swallows hard, hands clasped down her lap with her thumb nail digging into the skin near her wrist. Her mother has always been the bane of her existence. Despite the resentment and anger she harbors, she's feared her ever since she was a child—ever since she was born.

 _It's not good enough. Again._ She grew up with those words along with much harsher ones that have followed her up until this day.

 _You're nothing if you're not on top._

 _And what do you think? That love is going to bring you success? Love is a distraction._

 _Do it again until you perfect it!_

 _Again!_

She closes her eyes, deep in thought as a swirl of memories continue to assault her. She has to be better. She has to be on top. She has to be perf—

" _I love you,"_ a voice softly whispers, soothingly and sincerely. It's small and far away but it's there, strong enough to wash away the pain with words that no one has ever told her.

Opening her eyes once more, she straightens up, head held high as she faces them all, the final decision planted firmly in her mind.

"I see no harm in this union," she lifts up her hand when voices erupt to silence them all once more. "A Vanderbilt sharing the crown with a Du Pont is something that calls for a celebration rather than this childish uproar,"

Protests from several people start to burst again but she stands her ground, eyes now focused on her own seething mother. "This senseless rivalry needs to end and therefore I propose a solution that will benefit _everyone_ ,"

To be honest, from that moment onwards it's as if she has lost all control. Her emotions had run so high that she couldn't stop herself.

 _Stop herself from being selfish._

It was only that moment, one evening, when Chloe looks at her like she's ruined her whole world does it finally occur to her, what she had just done. The letter she herself wrote, all words straight from heart, the agreement she had forcibly proposed, lay crumbled down the ground where Beca had harshly thrown it.

Chloe picks it up, staring at it as if it will just vanish if she keeps looking at it. It doesn't take long until she's facing Aubrey again.

"But why… why does it have to be Stacie?" her cousin weakly asks, eyes pleading for her to revoke her decision, to change her mind.

But no, she will never yield, no matter how much Chloe begs.

Why stop now when she's already at this point?

"I'm sorry, Chloe. She just fits all the qualifications,"

It's a lie. The truth was just so hard to admit, even to the cousin she's dearly close to. How can she even begin to explain it if she confessed the real reason. That Stacie was…

 _The one I want. I don't care about anything else anymore. She wasn't just a casual affair. I want her back. I need to hold her close to me again because if I spend one more day without her, without seeing her face or hearing her voice, I might just die._

Aubrey knows she's caused havoc amongst the Du Ponts. She doesn't even spare a glance at Stella's face as she leaves, knowing that if she does then everything just might sink in and crumble.

That Aubrey's the reason why she won't be going back to France with her sister ever again. That she's the villain of their story.

But she pushes all of those thoughts aside and instead, she does what she does best, plan.

She makes a couple of calls to Italy, hiring all the best people she knows in order to come up with a room Stacie might like. One of the bedrooms in her own home comes to mind, it's as huge as her own room and closer, just a couple of feet away. A room that the Du Pont can occupy until they get married.

It has to be of the finest quality only.

She spends extra time deciding on the colors, the theme and art to be displayed. Stacie likes paintings that speak of anything about love. There has to be books too. The brunette reads a lot, surprising her when she recognizes Aubrey's favorite authors and proceeds to give her opinion about their works. Of course, she also purchases the latest stereo player, high definition sound systems and a uniquely designed CD rack to be hung on the wall filled with Stacie's favorite songs. Stacie loved to dance.

It's insane how she goes through every detail meticulously, her entire focus having been just that, intense. So intense that she almost breaks one of the family figurine heirlooms on top of her desk when Chloe opens the door to her office without even as much as a knock. She's never clicked the exit button on her laptop so fast.

Her cousin ends up begging her to change their minds. If only Chloe knew, it was all her. That none of their relatives could do anything about it as soon as it left her lips. And yet, even as Chloe tells her that it's wrong and unfair, Aubrey doesn't break. Purity of a bloodline be damned, nothing can change her mind. She wants to yell it out loud, desperately.

 _Can't you see how much I need her? She's all I want. She's the only one I want and she will be mine._

But what leaves her lips are, "I can't do anything about it, Chlo. You know that it's all for the best. Don't worry, I'll make sure that she's treated with the highest respect,"

All these lies. They make her want to vomit.

"And who is she marrying?"

The question throws her off. She's not really sure if she wants Chloe to know. Her mother has already sent her a letter, her very strong objections to her 'plans' written in it.

"Actually… we're still deciding,"

Another lie. She's already made it clear from her proposal that it will be her. This caused another uproar amongst her relatives but she slams all their protests down. It was final and done. Her engagement to Lorenzo already broken with this decision. She doesn't want him.

Chloe tries to convince her all week but to no avail. She'd never budge.

Finally, Beca calls for a private meeting with them and because she's made it clear that they can't refuse, Aubrey agrees. Only it doesn't happen because two nights before her flight to Italy, Scott brings in the news she's dying to hear.

"She's agreed to the arrangement,"

At first she doesn't comprehend what he's suddenly informing her of until he explains that Stacie called him—after acquiring his number from Emily.

"It's not a decision the rest of the family agrees upon so she requests that it's done quietly," he continues but Aubrey's mind is still stuck on one thought.

That she called Scott and not her. And that bothers her.

Pushing that aside for now, she nods before picking up her phone to prepare for whatever is necessary. There's a one-way plane ticket on one of her drawers and it's been there since two weeks ago. She takes it out, looking at it for a while. When she's done with the calls, she realizes that she'll never get any work done in her state. It's all happening and she's still having a hard time believing it.

 _She agreed._

She's going to see her.

Aubrey is nervous. She can't eat. She can't sleep. She can't think. She's seriously lost it when she's burnt the eggs she was cooking because of all the anxious thoughts in her head. All she's ever done is make sure that she's got everything covered while her mind runs off with all the _what ifs_. Everyone else thinks it the stress of leading their bloodline but deep down, it's not that.

 _What if she doesn't like the room?_

 _What if she doesn't like the house?_

 _What if she hates me?_

 _What if she… doesn't feel that way anymore?_

The last thoughts almost gives her a panic attack. She's never had those since high school but with what's going on in her life right now, she might as well have them again.

Eventually, the day comes and Aubrey's composure is all over the place that she's unable to sit still. How she even managed to pull through travelling towards her villa, she doesn't know. When she gets out of the limousine, she heads straight up to check on the room—and everything else. She's worried about everything even the smallest of things that she arrives late to her Aunt Gianna's invitation. It's her 143rd birthday and it's definitely an occasion that cannot be missed.

It's no surprise when she feels eyes watching her, the whole family now knows of what she's recently decided and heads are shaking. Her first few weeks as head of the high seat and there she was, breaking tradition. Hopefully, the hours trickle down fast because she may not look like she cares but having to be the center of gossip is unsettling. All her life, she's done everything to please others and now, she's doing the opposite and changing history.

Guess, she and the Queen herself aren't so different after all in that sense.

Time passes by slow but it does pass and Aubrey already feels like throwing up. Her anxiety is making her feel really sick. She's gotten a call from her brother, informing her that Stacie is already at the Vanderbilt's Iron Mansion. It's centuries old, built when Kings and Queens ruled Italy. The Posens were already powerful then, a noble family that should never be crossed. It's the Vanderbilt bloodline's main residence, three huge mansions interconnected together, and is shared by every family member. It's where she and her brother had spent their childhood in before moving to a much modern residence in New York.

Anxious thoughts aside, it frustrates her that she can't be there right now. Having Stacie meet her mother is making her worry. As much as possible she'd like to keep the Du Pont very far from Caterina Posen. She hates to think of Stacie having such a depressing first impression of Italy because of her mother.

But all that is forgotten when finally, she hears the cars arrive. Arthur's turbo engines roaring on the front gates. Her brother loves fast luxury cars and loves it even more that it irritates her whenever he'd like his presence be known by revving it up loudly. Now, there's a reason why she chose a peaceful neighborhood and it's because loud race cars aren't in it.

Her senses goes into overdrive, however, when she sees Stacie getting out of the car as if she owned it. Stepping away from her window, she tries to calm herself with the fact that _she's here_.

She's _finally_ here.

She hears people bringing up Stacie's bags as she steps out the door to make sure they don't mess anything up. When they leave, she slowly walks to the balcony overlooking the floor below. Her eyes follow long brunette locks outside and it seems that Stacie has found interest in the large infinity pool. She's not surprised though, the stunning pool sitting at the edge of the cliff and the heavenly view of the ocean far away was one of the few reasons she escapes to this place whenever she feels down.

When Arthur calls Stacie inside, Aubrey finally lets out a shaky breath and quietly makes her way down, her heart pounding uncontrollably that she's sure that they could all hear it.

"Thanks, Art," she finally speaks.

Stacie's shoulders stiffen although subtly but Aubrey catches this. Having spent so much time together for months, she's memorized her little quirks and reactions by heart. They are all burned in the back of her mind.

The Du Pont turns around to her, having pieced everything together, and Aubrey feels her chest constrict. Stacie is very beautiful and it's been so long. It feels like it's been years. She's missed her so much. So, so much. Those eyes had plagued her dreams and that voice, it follows her everywhere she goes. Always comforting her in times of pain. There had been countless times where she almost breaks and turns around to go find it. To find what she's let slip away and get it back only to stop herself at the last minute.

 _She has now though. She's right here, in front of her._

"Aubrey"

She almost loses it when she hears her say her name and she wonders why she's still alive after that.

But she spoke too soon because maybe she'd rather be dead than watch as everything finally falls apart. Words she wished she could say left unsaid and buried behind fear, a habit she hasn't gotten rid of.

"I'm the safe choice,"

 _You're not. Please don't say that._

It's like a punch to the gut when she realizes, finally faces, the gravity of what she's done.

"I'm just saying that you don't really have to put so much effort,"

 _But for you, I will. Say the word and I'll do it. All of it, I did for you. Only for you._

It hurts, the sting bouncing back in waves. Her smile no matter how genuine it looked never fully reaches her eyes. Her words although said casually and light holds no life in them. It wasn't how she used to remember it. This isn't how it's all supposed to go. This isn't the Stacie she knows. This is the broken version of the girl who has so much love to give.

"If there's something I need to do, change or some rules to follow then I'm willing to comply,"

 _Nothing. Change nothing. I don't want you to. Just be yourself._

All these weeks and finally the weight of it all catches up with her. Everything she's done to avoid it and now it's being slapped at her face.

"If this is the only way for that wedding to happen then I'll do it,"

She wants to say something. To correct her. To tell her that that's not the reason why. Why she's done all this and struggled to fight for it in the way she knows best. But she finds herself being shut out, pushed far away helplessly.

 _It's because I want you to be here. With me. To be mine._

The door closes with the last image of Stacie staring out in the window longingly, waking her up from this delusion she had hid behind of, what she's been blinded to see from the very beginning.

Rushing back to her room, she heads straight into the bathroom, locking herself in it and opening the faucet of her bathtub. Water rushes out, flowing down the drain as she slowly slips down the floor, hands muffling her sobs as her tears fall nonstop.

"And I'm… I'm sorry, that it had to be this way,"

The words Stacie uttered last linger in her head and stay there. It sounds too deep to mean just as she says it. Sorry for what? For getting tired of waiting? For losing my love for you?

It aches everywhere. It aches like nothing she's ever felt before and she doesn't know how to make it stop. She crumbles even more as the realization haunts her.

She's taken Stacie away from her own home, from her loved ones, from the freedom she so loves. And for what? To be a prisoner in this house, complying orders and doing what she is told to do. She's successfully dragged her into this miserable life, Aubrey's life.

What has she done?

What makes her different from Tom then when here she was doing the same thing he almost did to Chloe?

What makes her different from her parents when she's running uncontrollably down the same path herself?

Truly…

Aubrey Posen always gets what she wants.

But now she has everything, she's not sure if she deserves it.

* * *

When Aubrey was young, she badly wanted this pretty red doll. She wanted it so much she begged and cried about it to her parents. Her father could buy it in just a snap of his fingers but before he could, there was her mother, harshly dragging her away from the store by the arm. She gets strongly reprimanded for behaving so un-Vanderbilt like and she cries harder because of that. That, and the pain of her mother's grip.

In order to make her stop—being an embarrassment—her mother finally strikes a deal with her.

Become top of the class and the doll is hers.

It's how it all started to be honest. At a tender age of eight, there she was fighting for that golden spot just so she could get what she wants. She's desperate enough to sabotage Rosa Colombo's project because it looked really pretty and Aubrey was sure she'd get first if she doesn't do anything.

She wins over and over again, by intelligence and by foul play, just to possess whatever she desires, not caring if she destroys someone's feeling because of it until it's plain obvious that it's not about the toys or the expensive materials anymore. It's about her struggle to gain her mother's approval. That maybe if she was good enough, she'd stop hurting her and love her instead.

Apparently, she hasn't gotten rid of that habit.

Buying everything and everyone for their affection.

Stacie doesn't come out of her room the whole night, or at least, until Aubrey's back in her room.

She finds out about it when sleep doesn't come to her and goes down for a cup of tea only to find the Du Pont sitting on the tiles near the infinity pool, knees tucked to her chest as she gazes out on the ocean where the skies are starting to lighten up. The sun will be up in an hour or two so Aubrey abandons her quest for tea. Because Stacie is clearly avoiding her and she doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable.

It only fills her with guilt and shame.

As quietly as possible she retreats back to her room where she curls up in bed, hoping that tomorrow night would be better. When she hears the soft click of the door across her room, she closes her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek.

The sun shines and then sets, making way for another evening, an evening of more misery. They ate in silence. Sometimes Stacie would comment about something just to alleviate the awkwardness even for a little bit and Aubrey tries not to look right into forest green eyes.

Because if she does, the unbearable guilt might just be too much for her heart to handle.

As much as she wants to get close to the Du Pont, she stops herself. Her hand itches to hold Stacie's and she forces back the tears that threaten to spill. She has no right to do that.

Not when she's torturing the woman she _loves_.

She knows about torture. She lived a life witnessing it. Growing up to have this distorted version of what love is. That it doesn't exist and happily ever afters in fairytales are a lie. She saw it in her parents and knows that the toxic cycle continues if things were to go according to her plans. And now she fears that she'd turn Stacie into someone who doesn't believe in love, someone who has lost faith in it and lets the hatred conquer her. It scares her because now she knows that when you love someone, their happiness would always be a priority.

No matter how many jokes or smiles Stacie gives, Aubrey recognizes that none of them really come from the heart. Because she knows what they look like, she's seen them and felt them.

It's not this.

Stacie is not happy.

Not wanting to suffocate her further, Aubrey suggests that Stacie take a small tour of the town with Davide. Having nothing else to do, it's not surprising how eager the Du Pont jumps on the prospect of wandering off for the whole night. She tries not to give in to the hurt, to the thought that Stacie seems too eager to fly away from her grasp.

However, as soon as Stacie leaves, Aubrey doesn't get to breathe and decide on what to do because her mother is at the door. It's a very good distraction and thankfully, she's successful in putting Stacie far away from Caterina's reach but still, this confrontation fills her with dread. She had promised herself that as long as Stacie is with her, protecting her would be first on her priorities. To shield her from harsh words and painful insults.

Also, based on years of experience, none of her mother's visits are any good.

"You're making a huge mistake," her mother's voice chills the whole place despite it being warm.

Aubrey walks straight to the dining area, trying to tune her out but Caterina is right on her heels.

"You ignore all my letters, humiliating Lorenzo who is your perfect match by rejecting him and aggressively demanding to taint our purity of blood just so you could take that ill-bred Du Pont as your wife. You think I don't know about her various romantic conquests? That girl is better as a courtesan than a lady worthy of sharing the high seat and your name. For god's sake, you're the head of this bloodline now! You must have children with pure Vanderbilt blood. If you want peace within this family then throw her away to somebody else! Give her to Thomas! Poor boy's gone insane and all, nobody would care!" her mother lashes out but despite that Aubrey stands still, her trembling hands balling up into fists as she musters all the courage she has.

She focuses on the anger boiling inside her. Focuses on the words that make her want to fight back just as hard. How much it enrages her with how her mother talks about Stacie as some sort of object to be passed around like a worthless piece of toy and to the cousin she hates the most, of all people.

"No," the word is said in a low voice but it's loud enough.

It's loud because Aubrey's never defied her mother and it's obvious with the way Caterina's eyes look at her in surprise. Aubrey's never talked back against her, never blatantly disobeyed her orders and stood her ground until now. Aubrey was the obedient child. Arthur is the Posen who's always clashed with their mother but never Aubrey. Aubrey was the golden girl of the family.

She is the eldest Posen and with that, the weight in her shoulders are heavier than Arthur's. Every move she makes is careful and calculated. She's supposed to be the epitome of true class, the perfect image of the house of Vanderbilt.

Until Stacie.

"You don't talk about her like that," her voice shakes but she boldly takes another step forward.

"I will not let you insult the woman I will marry or disrespect her. She's the girl I choose and I would rather kill myself than be married to someone who I don't lo—" she says through gritted teeth, stopping herself but not in time for her mother's eyes to widen and piece it all together.

Her mother inhales sharply before exhaling shakily, emotions clearly running high as she tries to compose herself yet it's clear that it isn't exactly working. She shakes her head, denial etched on her face, "You do not have feelings for that girl," she hisses in a hushed tone but Aubrey is done bottling everything up.

She's done hiding.

"But I do!" she screams, her vision watering as she finally admits it out loud, her whole body shaking.

"I do," she repeats in softer tone. "I can feel, mother. I'm not made of stone and I will fight for this feeling even if it ends in flames because unlike you I am not afraid to give my heart to someone who makes me happy. No amount of success can ever give me that kind of happiness. There's strength in love and I pity you because you're too blind to find it. I pity my father for living with a woman like you. And I pity myself for having a mother like you!"

The sharp sound of a palm against cheek painfully resounds through the walls of the house but it's not new and as usual, Aubrey's eyes turn empty. She's used to it anyway. How many times has she been in this position before?

A lot.

Where else had she learned how to hide bruises under make-up?

"How dare you!" Caterina shrieks angrily.

Another slap and Aubrey takes it, welcoming the sting. Her tears fall yet she doesn't back down, doesn't make an effort to stop it. It's a better this way rather than face the fact that her own mother has never loved her, even once. Never considered that all these years she's yearned for love and now she's found it.

How precious it is to her.

She'd rather bleed to death than take back what she's said. She's meant every word and she doesn't regret it. If anything, it feels liberating and she wonders why it took her this long to do so.

Her mother's arm swings in the air again and Aubrey hopes she does it hard enough to make her unconscious because there's no way she'd change her mind.

But the slap never came.

"Good evening, Mrs. Posen,"

The voice makes Aubrey quickly whip her head up, bringing her back to life, panic rushing through her veins and her heart thudding loudly.

And how could it not when what she has feared is right in front of her. Stacie standing between Aubrey and her mother, the Du Pont holding Caterina's wrist to stop it from hitting her. It's really a sight to behold as her mother's face seemed like it was torn between disbelief and outrage. She's never seen her like that.

"Stay out of this, Du Pont!" her mother coldly says as soon as she takes her hand away from Stacie's grasp like she's been burned.

"Forgive me but I cannot do that," Stacie replies calmly, completely shielding Aubrey away from her as she moves to face Caterina squarely.

"I am to take the Vanderbilt name soon and technically, you are in _our_ house which makes this _my_ business. I have no objections to having you here as you are after all my fiancée's mother and I respect that but—"

"Stace, it's no—"Aubrey tries to intervene, taking a step forward to take all of her mother's wrath. She'd rather it be her suffering than Stacie.

Suddenly, she feels Stacie's hand tightly clasp around hers instead and just like that everything seems to feel better, the heavy weight she's been carrying and the guilt following her fading away.

"But," Stacie continues, voice steady. "I cannot tolerate you hurting her like that. My fiancée has a beautiful face and I like to look at it without bruises. _Ever_. As the future _wife_ of the head of this house, protecting her is my number one priority. I will not allow you to come here again if you are unable to control such animalistic behavior. It's _very_ un-Vanderbilt like, Mrs. Posen," she says and although her tone isn't as aggressive as her words, it feels like huge verbal punch nonetheless.

Caterina looked like she broke a nerve and Aubrey is too stunned to even react. Nobody has ever talked like that to Caterina Posen.

"Now, with all due respect, I'm asking you to leave so we could all call it a night," she says smoothly without even blinking, a hand motioning over to the door, "Or would you rather we call all the family elders for a meeting to discuss these issues in a much more civil way?" she asks and this time the sarcasm cannot be hidden in it.

It's probably comparable to advance sorcery when after an extremely tense silence Caterina growls and spins in her heels to leave, the door banging loudly. She may have said a lot of offensive and threatening words but Aubrey cannot hear them as she tries to figure out what just happened. It takes her one full minute to try and decipher it all before she realizes she's still holding hands with Stacie in front of the dining table. She also realizes that Du Pont is looking at her, _really_ looking at her, with concern filled in her eyes.

Honestly, it's the first time she's really looked into those serene orbs ever since this _arrangement_ and her heart twists just looking at them because after all this time, they haven't changed, still void of judgement and pity unlike the others. All she sees in it is something akin to…

 _Longing_

It's too much and something in the back of her head whispers that she doesn't deserve it, this concern or the way Stacie's hand seems to want to reach out to touch her face but stops halfway to settle tentatively on her arm.

"So uhm," Stacie starts, a smile slowly forming at the corner of her lips, "Want to sit down for a while and drink some wine?"

She doesn't know who lets go first but now her hand feels cold and she fights the urge to chase after Stacie's hand again.

Brushing her tears away, she finally finds her voice and mirrors Stacie's smile. "It's okay. I'm okay. I just wished you didn't had to see all that—did you forget something? I thought you already went out," she says, abruptly switching topics because what she has with her mother is heavy and heavy issues like that are what people struggle to avoid.

It's a burden she doesn't want to share with Stacie. It's hers to carry and hers alone.

"Yeah," Stacie nods lightly, eyes never leaving hers and being in her most vulnerable, she feels like she is being stripped to her very core.

Nobody outside their family has seen this side of her.

The dark and broken side of her.

"You,"

For a moment Aubrey looks at her in confusion until she realizes what exactly Stacie meant.

"I really wanted to ask if you would like to come with me. Davide would be a great companion but I wanted to know things from your point of view, what made you love this place and what your favorites are. Besides, we can go eat outside and debate about which country is better, France or Italy,"

Her answer pulls some strings from her chest because how can Aubrey continue this illusion, this make-believe, when Stacie's soul is unmeasurably beautiful. It's all too much and she doesn't deserve it. This kindness, this genuine care and understanding. It belongs to someone more worthy. Someone who is whole and free. Someone who can give her the world, freedom and a healthy relationship. Someone who'd never use their power to clip her wings and keep her chained to their side.

Someone who isn't her.

So she doesn't hold back the sob in her chest, doesn't stop the tears from falling because she knows beautiful things aren't meant to be forced in a cage for her to selfishly keep, not when it doesn't belong to her to begin with.

"You aren't the safe choice," she finally chokes out. "I put you here. I dragged you down with me. It was all me. I wanted you here without considering what _you_ wanted. I chose you because I—" she looks down shaking her head.

 _I love you_

"You don't have to stay. You can go home, your true home, back to France, back to your family. I want you to be happy and I can't…" she gives way to a fresh new batch of tears, her fingers tentatively touching Stacie's.

"I can't find it in myself to be fine when you are not. Being here with me will only give you suffering and I cannot bear to witness that. I cannot do this to you any longer. Not when you…"

 _Are everything to me._

"Not when you deserve _more_ ," she sniffs and she wishes that she could hold her tightly, wishes to feel that warmth again but Stacie deserved more, better.

 _Better than her, a broken shell living in a life of misery._

Stacie doesn't move, doesn't leave her side or quickly run away the second she was given the opportunity and Aubrey remembers something important, the reason why they are together in the first place so she clears her throat to assure her.

"Beca and Chloe will have their wedding. I'll make sure of it," she nods and now as she releases her hold on Stacie's hand, she feels like breaking.

"Do you really mean it?" Stacie asks and Aubrey finds it hard to look into those eyes so she settles them on the floor where her heart must be as of the moment.

She nods in answer to Stacie's question, "Yes, I promise. You can tell Chloe that I'll take care of the rest. She doesn't need to worry about anything,"

"Not that," Stacie corrects as she takes a step forward, closer to her. "I was talking about what you said earlier, your feelings… for me. Did you really mean it?"

Stacie _has_ heard it, she might've actually caught everything she had admitted to her mother and Aubrey doesn't know what to do about that fact. So she simply nods, tears finding its path down her cheeks once more.

It takes only a second before she lays it all down in an honest confession, tearfully and sincerely. Her heart pouring out its contents for the first time.

"I'm so sorry. I know, I'm late. When you confessed to me that night, I got so scared because if I told you and had fought for it—for _us_ back then I would have lost you. My scheming, manipulative mother would've gone to the extremes to keep you away from me. You've met her, she can find ways to separate us. I thought I'd lose my mind when I longed to write back to you, all those letters I never got to send. It even came to a point where I was ready to challenge Tom for the title, for you and for Chloe, because this was the only way I know but Chloe stopped me. I'd only get myself killed and dying just means not being with you so, it's useless. Then finally I got the opportunity, with this power I have now, I created a solid, unbreakable agreement and I know it's not exactly standing up against them. Instead, it's something a coward like me could hide behind from to get what she wants but this is all I could do—"

Her words are swallowed by soft lips and she didn't know what's even happening until she's feels so warm it makes her dizzy but Stacie is there, holding her tightly, keeping her grounded. It takes her back to the very first kiss they had and her head fills up with music. They sway lightly and maybe Stacie hears it too.

When they break away, Stacie doesn't move far, their faces inches from each other and Aubrey's lungs are desperate for air, _desperate for more of her._

"You came back," Stacie breathes out in what sounds like relief as she brushes Aubrey's tears away. "You came back for me and that's more than enough,"

Aubrey gives in almost quickly and kisses her because after all this time, after what had happened, after what Aubrey did, Stacie stuck to her word. She waited and the mere thought of it was so absurd to her that she had foolishly chose to believe that she would move on and forget. Because nobody has ever loved her like this before. Nobody cared enough to wait for her. When everyone walked away, when she herself walked away from everything there was this stubborn Du Pont who clung to the possibility that she'd _change her mind._

Stacie waited for her despite all that and how could she possibly not fall for this girl more? How could she have been so stupid to think otherwise? That Stacie being hurt wasn't because she was done with her but because Aubrey kept pulling away from her.

Their lips part again and this time the smiles she sees are genuine as she vows to correct something important, "I never changed my mine. Not once," she admits and Stacie nods, knowing exactly what she means. "It's always been you."

There was only one choice and Aubrey will stick to that choice no matter what.

She lets herself be buried in Stacie's arms and breathes in the scent she's missed the most.

"Just promise one thing," she hears her whisper and truthfully, Aubrey is ready to promise her the universe.

"Don't ever let go because I won't. Don't leave me like that again," and it's a huge thing to promise because it means she's in this for the long run. "No matter how evil your mother is,"

They both laugh through happy tears and Aubrey's hug tightens, grasping at the fabric of Stacie's clothes as she closes her eyes.

"I'll never let go. Never again. I promise,"

And she means it with all her heart.

"You can still visit France whenever you like. I won't hinder you from seeing them," she offers.

"Yeah but I'm enjoying the serenity of this place way too much and god, that pool! That view! My bed! Did the gods make that themselves?" she says, voice filled with awe that it instantly pulls on the corner of Aubrey's lips.

"My noisy cousins can survive without me for a month," Stacie laughs and Aubrey decides she's addicted to the sound of it.

They stay wrapped in each other's embrace until Stacie starts swaying them again and unlike before Aubrey doesn't question it, doesn't find it absurd or weird. Instead, she follows along, letting herself be swayed because she gets it now, she hears it all around her, swirling and producing the sweetest melodies.

They could call her crazy. Maybe she's lost her mind but she doesn't care.

 _That's love._

But before anything else…

"So about those letters you said you wanted to send me. Does that mean that you actually wrote replies to my love letters all these years but you just didn't send them?"

Aubrey pauses, blood draining from her face as she realizes what she had uttered minutes ago and where this is all going.

"What? I-I… never said anything like that,"

It doesn't take a second before she's untangling herself from Stacie's hold and speed-walking away from her, not catching the sly smirk on the Du Pont's face.

"Sweetheart, don't be shy! It's romantic! It's so you! You wrote them for me so I have to read them. And you do realize that you _cannot_ run away from me anymore? We're tied together now!" Stacie yells as soon as Aubrey is up the stairs, taking two steps at a time pausing only to yell back.

"No! I'm having second thoughts about this marriage. Go back to France!"

"I don't want to!" comes the indignant reply as Stacie follows her.

She's just about to open her door and possibly hide in embarrassment when Stacie grabs her wrist and swiftly pulls Aubrey inside her room, catching her off-guard that she squeaks in surprise. She opens her lips to protest but they only hang at the tip of her tongue as Stacie silences her with a kiss. The door closes behind her and Stacie whispers something about testing the bounce factor of _their_ bed in a low tone that makes her brain malfunction.

The conclusion?

The bed is truly heavenly.

When the sun sets, Aubrey wakes up with a smile on her face armed with the realization that it's not a dream. It's all real, the love they shared last night, Stacie's body pressed against her, legs tangled underneath the sheets, the peace in her heart and the unmeasurable bliss that she feels, it's all real.

And when Stacie pulls her close, planting soft kisses all over her skin, looking at her like she's all she's ever dreamed of, she makes sure that Aubrey knows that she deserves all of it.

"I'll never hurt you," the soft sincere promise, as soft as Stacie's gentle touch when she touches the fading bruise on her cheek, conjures up tears that came straight from her chest.

She believes it, knows it in her heart.

That she's safe in between these loving arms.

It doesn't take her long to say those three little words that she finally gets to say for the very first time, words she wouldn't hide in silence anymore, and watches it reflect back at her with the radiant look on Stacie's face.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Chapter 29 also entitled as, 'The Billion and One Ways Aubrey Subtly Says I Love You'** or **'The Billion and One Moments Where They Could've Just Been Honest'** OR my personal favorite, **'The Countdown To When Stacie Finally Loses Control in Italy And Drags Aubrey To Bed'**

And In celebration of Staubrey because you all love these two so much and I sincerely cannot bear to leave these obvious soulmates wandering apart miserably any longer,

Everybody now! Wave your hands in the air! C'mon, sing with me!

 _ ****** **I DON'T WANNA BE YOUR FRIEND. I WANT TO KISS YOUR NECK!**_

 _Don't you see me? I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you. And don't you need me? I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you. On this night, and in this light I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you. **And maybe you, CHANGE YOUR MIND** ******_

 **Who knew the only person to defeat Caterina Loveless Posen is Anastasia Cerise Conrad? She went there and did _that_. Coming in strong with the shade and the undying Du Pont sarcasm, all the while looking calm as the quiet night. So, a warning to anyone who tries to hurt Aubrey Antonette Posen. If you don't want to run away whining like a baby, better think twice. **

**Also, Stacie signed up to be a Vanderbilt because of that damn infinity pool.**

 **But seriously, it's hard for me to give Stacie away to the Vanderbilts because she's so Du Pont through and through** (even though she has Vanderbilt traits when it comes to her love for peaceful mornings with tea and a good novel) **. Just imagining what it would feel like at nineteen** (also turning twenty like Beca) **and leaving everything behind because you are forced into something that you're not even sure of, something that is as huge as marriage, that's insane! Yeah, Aubrey is there but initially there's no guarantee that all will be well. Going back to how they ended things, it's uncertain. Also, super scary. Aubrey never told Stacie her feelings. She just ended their** _thing_ **when Lorenzo came and then she just left, claiming that love is not real and all!** (Imagine just how hard it was for her to say that back then).

 **From the beginning it feels as if it's only Stacie who is deeply in love, willing to cross uncharted seas for her, while Aubrey is only in it because of sexual attraction. That is until, her side of the story comes to light and we can finally sigh in relief because Aubrey is definitely crazy in love over her all this time** (she just doesn't handle all that sudden overflowing love well).

 **Remember, I wrote Aubrey as someone who 'carefully executes her plans by not rushing'. She waited for months before using Ethan's ex-girlfriend to break Ethan and Stacie up** (then because she's such a soft adorable bean, apologized for it) **. Yep, she's that bitch, that one that you just fall in love with because she's got layers and you find out that she's not entirely as bad as she is known for. That she's just lonely** (and possibly jealous of Ethan because she's already unconsciously claimed Stacie as hers) **and broken-still not a good reason to hurt people, I know.**

 **If Chloe followed her heart and just jumped, Aubrey is grabbing a parachute, supplies and emergency kits before taking said jump and landing on a strategic area where she then plots her next move of attack. The girl is a strategist which makes her extremely smart. It's so Aubrey to wait until the opportunity comes and when it does she grabs it without any hesitation. And who would be the perfect match for someone like her? A girl who is willing to wait as long as it takes for Aubrey to scribble her brilliant plans on her whiteboard. A girl as understanding, loving and patient as Stacie.**

 **But of course, there's room for improvement and growth. Where Aubrey, who always gets what she wants, is willing to let Stacie go in order for her to be happy and free, ready to bear the consequences no matter what. Aww. Fuckin' right in the feels! Then Stacie's 'I'll never hurt you' Awwwww. Fuck! Whyy?**

 **Okay I better stop. This is getting embarrassing already (Yes fanfic authors cry when they write their stories sometimes, so what?!)**

 **Uhm... I think... we only have... one chapter left.**


	31. Eternal Lover of The Moon, The Sun

**Chapter 30**

 **Eternal Lover of the Moon, The Sun**

* * *

Beca stares up at one of the clear stained glass windows of Corvinn Castle from her room, the room which had been occupied by every single crowned royalty during their reign. As a matter of fact, Kings and Queens have died in that very bed across the room. The size is excessively grand and Beca sighs as the dark clouds drearily loom above, hindering her from seeing the stars. Even the moon has decided to take a vacation, probably with its eternal lover, the sun. There had been reports of an eclipse, she's just not sure when exactly but it's hard to find out if that's true now. Instead of the usual quiet of the night, there's a low rumbling sound of thunder that follows and Beca sighs because the one night she ardently prays that the skies clear up for her, they fail her.

"What a perfect day to get married!" Stacie's voice cuts through her silent thoughts about the weather and echo around the high ceiling of Corvinn Castle's master's bedroom.

Turning around, she eyes her cousin sourly and in a moment, walks towards her with a deadly mission only to be stopped as Stacie raises her hands up.

"Wait! Wait! Before you try to kill me for leaving a month ago without a proper goodbye, can I hug you first and maybe get some celebratory whiskey as well?" Stacie sheepishly grins.

They stand still for a few seconds until she grabs one of the throw pillows of the sofa in lightning speed and hits her cousin with it square on the face.

"Did you know how worried we were? I had to cook for nights. Me! Cooking! For how many nights! Chloe has been spoiling the depressed brats! Jesse won't stop crying! You know that he cannot deal with goodbyes! Don't even get me started with your sister! And what do we get? A fucking letter! Just! A! Fucking! Letter! With a smiley face at the end!" she angrily says as she hits Stacie with another pillow.

"Ow! Ow! Okay, I deserve that first one but this is starting to become abuse. Ow! I'm sorry!"

"Then what? Afterwards it all just, 'Having fun at the pool!' 'Perfect dinner date with delicious Italian cuisines!' 'Waking up with bae'," she quotes, watching Stacie cringe at the mention of her recent posts on social media.

"You're even proudly wearing gold now, you bitch" she points out, eyeing Stacie's beautiful dress scattered with gold.

Nevertheless, Beca wasn't finished yet, pillow in one hand, aimed to fire.

"Okay! Stop it! Or I'm calling Chloe," her cousin threatens and Beca crosses her arms, tilting her head, challenging her to do it.

"I'm sorry, really! At that time, if I had said goodbye, you would've gone psycho at the Vanderbilts and wouldn't have agreed to my decision." Stacie explains, lowering her hands down when she feels that Beca won't hit her again. "Don't you dare deny it! I know you,"

Clearing her throat, Stacie continues to add, "And I'm not the only one wearing gold right now," a smile grows on her lips as she eyes the golden embellishments swirling around on Beca's deep red wedding gown.

Beca studies her for a moment, the grand historical even of what's to happen this night still not having fully sunk in.

She's getting married, tonight. To the love of her life.

"It's not… a bad color on us," Beca finally says, her lips curving slightly to the side.

"No it's definitely not. But honestly, in the end, it's just a color," Stacie adds, smiling before pulling her into a tight hug.

"Are you happy?" she asks.

"I am, very much," Stacie answers and that's more than enough for Beca.

She could have given her the usual 'If she hurts you I'm going to kill her' speech but instead, she puts her arms around her cousin, hugging her back.

"Other than my evil soon-to-be mother in-law, everything is perfect. I love her, Becs," her cousin softly admits when they part and Beca just sighs.

"And oh my god, the sex—"

"Stop! I don't want to know," she quickly puts a finger up, grimacing at her smirking cousin.

"Right, sorry, just too happy that's all," Stacie says even though Beca knows she's clearly not sorry at all.

"By the way, I thought you were getting married on the same week," Beca inquires, remembering about talks regarding a huge Vanderbilt wedding during one of those business dinners.

"Yeah, about that," Stacie starts, rubbing the back of her neck. "Let's just say Aubrey has this habit of over… planning and according to her, you only get married once which is why it _has_ _to be_ _done perfectly_ ," Stacie emphasizes, seemingly copying exactly how Aubrey says it. "But if I play my cards right I can convince her to speed it up. I have ordered new lingerie that doesn't really hide anything and I—"

"I do not really want to know about any of my council members' sex life. Ever," Beca interrupts, the grimace back in her face.

"Also, Arthur keeps insisting a surprise bachelorette party for the both of us. Aubrey thinks it will be the worst night of her life. I think otherwise, as long as it's me dancing on that pole in front of her in my new lingerie," Stacie proceeds, not really bothered about sharing too much information.

"I don't think that's how a bachelorette party works," Beca comments again.

"Shut up. I can do whatever I want on my bachelorette party. It's a crime you didn't have one, actually," Stacie points out.

"I don't need _or_ want one,"

"You won't be saying that if it's Chloe dancing up on that pole in lacy under—"

"That's a honeymoon not a bachelorette party and if that's the case, I'd rather go straight to the honeymoon," she blurts out before thinking and Stacie's devious smile makes her a clear winner tonight.

"I can _totes_ feel the excitement," her cousin teases as Beca rolls her eyes. Taking in her very expensive dress, Stacie finally tones down the jokes and gets serious.

"So, are you ready?" she asks as Beca glances at her reflection in the mirror.

There's only one thing left missing. Her crown.

The thought of it brings her to Chloe and how in a couple of hours, she'd be wearing a crown matching Beca's. She's already seen it herself and has envisioned it being adorned on top of Chloe's head. Years ago, such idea wouldn't even have crossed her mind and if at some point it did, the old Beca would have rejected it and placed it in the deepest corner of her heart.

Chloe would be crowned Queen tonight, and not just any sort of Queen. She's about to become Beca's Queen. Which, to the old Beca, is the one position in the world she would never place her most beloved. But Chloe loves Beca, both the Beca who thinks she isn't worth loving and the Beca tonight who believes in second chances, of love and of hope. And maybe the Beca right now still has fears and doubts but _Chloe loves Beca._ That love is what saved her in those dark times, trusted her when nobody else did and constantly reached out to her when she is drowning.

Love always kills evil.

She looks back at Stacie, a small smile growing in her lips.

"With such perfect weather, of course I am,"

* * *

The Du Ponts earn their small little reunion with Stacie's presence but the celebrations are to be put on hold as Beca stands behind the grand hall's massive doors, crown now gloriously resting on top of her head and heart beating fast as everyone in attendance hushes to silence. She feels so much at the moment that she fears collapsing on the floor at some point.

She's been in this position so many times before, awaiting behind doors for the proper introduction and entering as everyone bows down in respect. But this time it's different, it feels different. She's happy and nervous at the same time that her mind races into a million different scenarios. It doesn't even help that she hasn't seen Chloe all night and being separated for that long causes anxiety and uneasiness. Her paranoia kicks in but she quells it down with thoughts of a pleasant future ahead. It has been a while since she's stood in such a formal setting alone.

 _She'll never be alone after tonight anymore._

Music fills in the whole place as the finest musicians of their generation play together for the grandest event of the century as the entourage begins. Relatives, both Du Ponts and Vanderbilts all walk their part—Stacie gushes excitedly for Scott and Emily because they look good together. Chloe's little cousin serves as the cute ring bearer while the Du Pont twins have aggressively volunteered as flower boys and even the image of them wearing flower crowns while throwing golden roses all over the red carpet looked perfectly endearing—probably the only time they ever did something genuinely. It's absurd sometimes, just thinking about it. It's a wedding like every wedding—okay maybe it's extravagant but still, a wedding. It just so happens that she's a Du Pont walking down the aisle to marry a Vanderbilt, the first ever union between two prestigious bloodlines. Every important person is in the room and for a second there, Beca glances at every corner where threats could strategically enter.

It's a habit she can't get rid of.

Besides, it's only been months since the brutal siege and attack of Corvinn Castle so she can't be blamed for putting up her protective side. Security is extremely tight. She herself had briefed them weeks before the wedding.

Taking up one deep breathe, she looks up towards her uncle Gabin, nodding her head once to let him know that she's ready. He gives her a wide smile before he snaps his fingers and the castle's royal soldiers start to enter in two straight lines led by Gabin himself, retaining the traditions of earlier royal weddings. Her uncle is accompanied by Corvinn's royal generals, decked from head to toe in formal uniform, heads held high as they move in a perfectly synchronized manner. It's the royal army's way of respect for their Queen and also serves as a welcome for their future Queen. Corvinn is going to have another royalty and it's for the one who will be sitting next to Beca's throne.

The music changes, transitioning to the next piece perfectly, playing an orchestra version of one of her favorite songs and Beca takes one deep breather before finally walking down the aisle. Everyone bows in respect as she glances up at the Du Pont and Vanderbilt flags hanging up the high ceilings, a sight you don't see every day.

Somewhere up there, her parents must be proud. They may not be physically able to walk with her today but she feels their presence nonetheless, both of them and her brother's, and that's enough for her. They'd all want this for her.

Being so wrapped up with the details, she only snaps out of it when Stacie nudges her. It's only then that she's realized that she's already reached the steps in front, each of the council heads standing behind Sorina Niculae, the chosen officiate.

It's only right that neither a Du Pont nor Vanderbilt do it to avoid further conflict. There's already too much debate on who's doing what from both sides of the family already—from the flowers to the food.

The Du Ponts are all together in the left while the Vanderbilts in the right because some things are going to have to take while to get used to. The other families, non-elites and ambassadors from all over the world are all present as well, excited to be part of such a historical moment.

Beca is just glad that Stacie's standing next to her because she needs all the support she can get. But it's when her cousin gasps in awe that she finally lifts her gaze up. Her heart almost stops at the sight.

Her Chloe, wrapped in a beautiful golden dress encrusted with red diamonds and a smile that could chase away the rain pouring right on top of the clear glass above them.

Beca never understood why people cry in their own weddings. She's scoffed and rolled her eyes at the idea yet tonight as Chloe walks down the aisle with both her parents, already looking like royalty that rivals the beauty of all the Queens that have graced Corvinn castle, Beca blinks back tears because she's found her, her soulmate, her best friend and she gets to live a life by her side.

Bright blue eyes look right back at her and Beca is reminded of the first time they met. Those very pair of eyes were the first thing she ever saw before hiding behind her mother and now as it turns out, will become the very first thing she sees at dusk and the last thing she sees at the break of dawn for the rest of her life. The feeling is overwhelming, even more so as the distance between them lessens.

It was like being drawn to something so mesmerizing that you can't help but move towards it. Beca takes a few steps down the platform to reach for Chloe's hand. The connection surges a new wave of warm energy spreading all over her and knows that Chloe feels the same way.

Chloe's smile widens as Beca leads her up a couple of steps and right at the center.

"Don't cry," Beca softly tells her as she looks into glassy blue eyes.

"But I will if you do," Chloe replies as they both smile knowingly.

When Sorina steps forward to officially begin the ceremony, they both face her and Beca feels like she's floating in some beautiful dream. One where she says words coming straight from her heart and hears words of love given right back at her. She remembers kneeling down and promising her devotion and loyalty in front of the world before watching in adoration as a matching crown is placed on top of Chloe's head.

But only when she faces her sunshine and kisses her does she fully realize that it's all real.

It's real. It's hers and it's forever.

* * *

The celebration continues all through the night with the live music, the fireworks, blood wine, delicious food and dancing. Also, after being crowned, royalty duties kick in almost immediately with the many important guests coming up to their table to give them warm congratulations. In between all of it, Beca doesn't let go of Chloe's hand and Chloe doesn't mind that one bit or the fact that she doesn't get tired hearing her title spoken lovingly from Beca's lips.

"Me and my Queen would love to visit Spain this summer," Beca says to Lucas Ortega and his wife Camila, both happy at the prospect of having royalty visiting their home.

Chloe voices out her excitement in visiting such a beautiful country as it is after all a part of their honeymoon destinations. Travelling had always been their dream ever since they were children which is why picking a place to spend their first few weeks of marriage has become quite tricky. Thus, after what feels like a year of contemplating, they came up with five countries to hop around in. Chloe plans to sneak in another country and Stacie has told her that convincing Beca wouldn't be so hard—especially if she asks during pleasure-inducing _activities_.

The Ortegas give their well wishes along with one of the finest and rarest wines as a wedding gift before stepping back down to their table, finally giving them both some time for themselves as no one else seems to be moving close.

Chloe sighs in relief, the whole week has already been exhausting with all the preparations, especially with the last two days and now it's all unfolding beautifully. Still, the exhaustion from tonight is suddenly weighing down on her.

Beca lifts up their intertwined hands and when Chloe's attention falls on her she finds her planting a gentle kiss on the back of her palm, a smile springs on her lips. The mere fact that this beautiful woman was now her wife makes her want to jump up and down with joy. But more importantly, she gets to spend every single day showing her just how much she loves her and that's just one of the best things about it.

Unable to resist, she leans forward to give Beca a kiss, happy not to have to hide in corners anymore. She has every right to kiss her wife whenever she wants now.

When Beca's gaze continues to linger on her after Chloe's bold display of affection, she smugly explains, "Thought I should remind people who you belong to now,"

That earns a smirk from the brunette, "It's only been a couple of hours and you're already marking what's yours,"

"It's necessary. We may not be wolves but when cunning wood folk lurking nearby seem to take advantage of the fact that Queens are still allowed to have concubines, I am willing to be feral, Becs," she says before darkly eyeing the whispering ladies in a corner, their eyes subtly flitting seductively over at Beca and throwing flirty smiles whenever the crowned royalty's line of sight falls in their direction.

"Cunning wood folk," Beca's melodious laughter brings her attention back as her jaw slackens because this is a serious matter and her wife thinks it's funny.

"Yes, cunning wood folk, Beca. Snakes, foxes and, and, and—"

"Raccoons," Beca supplies.

"Trash scavengers!" she explodes while Beca's laughter rings in her ears once more, blood almost spilling from the goblet she's holding and as much as the sight of the ever broody Du Pont laughing is a delight, Chloe still is deadly serious about it.

Very serious enough to reach out and make Beca look at her, a hand underneath the brunette's chin to turn that pretty face towards her direction, "I swear, Rebecca Olivia Du Pont, you even for a second _think_ about glancing at those cunning wood folk and I'll—"

"You'll do what Chloe Sofia Du Pont?" Beca's voice drops a tone deeper, an eyebrow arching perfectly and it's unfair because she knows exactly what that does to her.

Soft _evil_ fingers run down Chloe's inner wrist teasingly and she grits her teeth at the strong urge to just melt at the sensual touch. Beca's always been so good at pushing her buttons but that doesn't mean that she doesn't know which buttons to push back.

"I'm told that I have very good aim and the ultimate power to make the Queen bend to my wishes,"

Beca tilts her head to the side, the corner of her lips slightly curving upwards as she murmurs, "Oh dear," leaning forward until Chloe could feel her breath warm on her skin.

"That makes you the most dangerous person in this room then. You're not one to mess with,"

Lips brush softly against the corner of her lips as they make way towards her cheek then her jaw and Chloe smiles knowing it's done. She wins and she loves it every single time she does—which is all the time.

Only there's just one _tiny_ problem.

Every time she wins it ends up in only one scenario.

"And what should I do to appease my Queen? What should I do to assure her that…"

Lips travel to her neck and Chloe bites her lip because it's hard not to get carried away when they've been separated for twenty-four hours prior to the wedding. It had been the most emotional twenty-four hours and even though it ended perfectly, she does not want to go through that again.

"…she's the _only one_ who will ever have that power," Beca mumbles as she stops over her pulse point and Chloe inhales sharply when she feels lips parting to press an open-mouthed kiss on what is considered a vampire's most sensitive spot.

Suddenly the noise in the room dies down and the only thing she could hear is the soft rhythmic drumming of a heartbeat, Beca's heart, pumping blood up towards that precious jugular vein. Her mouth suddenly feels dry and she swallows hard, suddenly feeling parched but it's not water she wants. No other liquid can quench this thirst. No other blood would satisfy her but one and it's throbbing in front of her right this moment, begging her to take the bite.

Someone clears their throat—Gabin—and the noise turns back on. Chloe almost jumps from her seat while Beca just looks like she's trying to quell down the frustration from being interrupted, jaw flexing as she smoothly straightens back up. The Moris have come up to greet them and it's like nothing happened.

The twins are hyping up the party, much to the older Vanderbilts' annoyance. Stacie and Aubrey don't give a care about the hype as they sway together sweetly on the dance floor. Jesse seems to be winning someone's heart again but he isn't the only one because somehow the youngest Conrad looks flustered over someone for the first time and the source happens to be a very pretty blonde female—which definitely solves the mystery as to why none of Stella's male suitors have ever managed to score a date with her. But what takes Chloe's attention the most is when a nervous looking Scott finally gets the courage to go up to Emily's parents and ask their permission to dance with her.

Years ago it would have been impossible but now, Chloe finally sees it, the influence of what she and Beca had fought so hard for, what they had once dreamt of finally coming true.

The walls have finally started crumbling apart.

Ivan Du Pont suddenly has the strict-dad-look on his face but his wife, Katherine, seems to approve with that warm smile. It takes a few tense minutes and by some miracle—or possibly, lots of courage and sincerity from the young Vanderbilt—Emily kisses her father's cheek happily before taking Scott's outstretched hand. When he leads her to the middle of the dance floor, he glances behind Emily and smiles awkwardly at the congratulatory thumbs up Stacie excitedly gives him. Guess, Stacie's expertly concocted love potion is starting to spread around the Vanderbilts even though it gets an accusing look from Aubrey—' _I had a feeling you were behind this'_

However, when Stacie looks up towards their direction and tips her head up like a signal for a work finally finished, maybe the mastermind of this whole romantic Scott-Emily plot was sitting right next to her all along. Turning to her wife, she finds Beca sipping wine from her cup, slyly hiding a knowing smile and Chloe knows she made the right decision to marry her.

One of the guests comes to their table to congratulate them on their union and Chloe thinks that their intense intimate moment a while ago is long forgotten.

The slow circular patterns Beca is tracing on Chloe's thigh says otherwise.

 _At what time would be the perfect moment to bail on your own wedding reception?_

* * *

"Thank you, Your Highness and again congratulations," Benjamin Abbot says as Beca finally makes her way out of the hall towards her quarters, security at her heels.

The party has now shifted in a pace that the younger generation enjoys as the elders started to leave, some settling at the castle's guest rooms while others have flights to catch and businesses to take care of. Chloe has parted from her earlier to spend time with the Vanderbilts as the conversations start to get political—something that can't be avoided even if it happens to be your special day.

She motions over to her uncle Gabin, who steps to her side and promptly reports, "Your wife, the Queen, has left the party half an hour ago and is safe in your room. Laureline escorted her earlier,"

Beca could not count just how many times she has stressed that Chloe's safety is her priority. She had given the heavy responsibility of ensuring Chloe's protection in her absence to her older cousin Laureline—only because she almost outsmarted her in a sparring match once. _Almost_.

Gabin's words makes her sigh in relief, her heart bouncing when the word _wife_ comes up as she finally makes her way up after a couple of twists and turns.

"Uhm," Gabin suddenly starts before Beca could even enter her room.

When she turns to look at him, she finds him looking rather uncomfortable as he tries to speak, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"What?" she impatiently asks as she takes off her crown to give it to her waiting assistants who are responsible for keeping it safe.

"Do you want us to… you know… give you a little… uhm—" he tries to say while Laureline rolls her eyes and sighs, deciding to end his internal torture.

"Privacy. He wants to know if it's okay if we should distance ourselves from the room as oppose to protocol since tonight happens to be your wedding _night_ ," her cousin finishes without even flinching, just wanting to get it over with, while Gabin awkwardly looks elsewhere despite trying so hard to be at ease.

Centuries' old castles happen to lack soundproof for vampire hearing and instead, amplifies noises as it echoes around the walls. With that fact, a very sensitive topic comes to light. Newly married couples tend to want privacy after the celebrations due to _obvious_ reasons.

Royalties are very specific about this since old customs dictates about how extremely important it is to consummate a marriage on the first day as immediately having an heir is a priority. Purity has also been an issue back then and thankfully they don't live back in a time where _evidence_ is required. Certainly, the times have changed but there are also things that have remained.

"Right, of course," Beca says shortly, posture rigid and clearly nobody is comfortable in this conversation. "I'd appreciate the distance,"

"We'll be… widening the perimeter then," Gabin finally finds his words and yet it still doesn't alleviates the suffocating awkwardness.

"Just leave," Beca finally breathes out in frustration as they all quickly do just that.

Exhaling, she enters the room only to wish that the topic hadn't been brought to her because now she's suddenly feeling this huge pressure being dropped on her shoulders. They have talked about children before and decided to wait for a couple of years before trying. But the fact that it feels like everyone is waiting on it and having this general idea of what she and Chloe would be doing in this room is certainly stressing her out.

It stresses her out to the point where she doesn't hear Chloe call her name from the equally massive bathroom connected to the room and come out to find her standing at the same spot she'd been rooted to for almost five minutes now, looking at the bed covered in rose petals and scented with expensive oils, deciding if it's too late to hop in a plane and fly away to somewhere… private.

"Midnight," Chloe's voice breaks through as she feels a pair of hands cup her face. "Are you okay?"

The question doesn't quickly register as her brain turns into a puddle at those gorgeous blue eyes looking at her worriedly. Chloe's beach curls is damp and she smells like flowers. She now looks fresh, make-up free, which Beca thinks she looks most beautiful, and now clad in a bathrobe—satin bathrobe, _for the love of god—_ How someone could be so attractive without any effort simply awes her to no end.

"Take off your heels,"

The command finally wake her up.

"What?"

"Just take it off. My feet were dead by the time I took mine off. Wearing those high heels for hours, which even though are extremely beautiful, are very uncomfortable," Chloe explains with a grimace and Beca does as she's told, holding on to the redhead. She could almost hear her feet crying in relief.

"There. See? Feels so much better, right?"

She nods and hums in content with a small smile on her lips. Suddenly, her chest slowly feels light. There's really just something about Chloe and how she just makes anyone feel that way, like all the bad things in the world just simply fades in her presence.

"Okay, now come here," she says, tugging Beca along by the hand towards the bathroom.

What greets her is a sight that would make anyone melt after a tiring busy day.

A tub filled with warm water, floating rose petals and scented candles lit up at the side. It's just everything she needs right now. All that and the sweet kiss Chloe plants on her cheek lovingly that is almost enough to make her tear up. All of it makes her feel so loved and it's never not too much. It just keeps overflowing.

"Oh! Did you know one of the Niculaes gave us this very delicious dark chocolate powder?" Chloe tells her excitedly, adorably bouncing on her feet as she lights up at the thought.

"I'm going to make hot chocolate? Want one?"

And how can Beca not say no to that face?

"Sure," she replies just as Chloe cheers happily.

"Alright, just relax. One cup of hot chocolate will be waiting for you when you come out," And before she bolts out excitedly, Beca catches her in time to pull her back towards her so she can give her a kiss.

Because words are simply not enough in moments like this.

Besides, with Chloe, Beca never has to say more for her to understand. She simply does and Beca falls in love harder.

"Oh my god! I can change my Facebook relationship status now! Or should I take this to Instagram first?" Chloe yells as she walks out the bathroom and Beca could only shake her head.

She doesn't exactly know how long she's dipped herself in the tub but when she puts on a bathrobe similar to Chloe's and steps out the bathroom, a cup of hot chocolate is indeed waiting for her while her wife types away on her phone—probably Aubrey or an update of how drunk the young Du Ponts are—legs crossed as she sits at the middle of the bed, the bed where ten people could easily fit in.

Settling down at the side of the bed as she takes a sip of the delicious hot chocolate, she feels the bed move as Chloe crawls to her side, a leg tucked under her thigh and the other hanging down to the floor as she faces Beca.

"Have the twins broke any of the rare sculptures downstairs?" Beca asks after she takes another sip.

"No, but one of them is hanging the other up at the three hundred year old chandelier while posting live videos of the view from above," Chloe sighs and to be honest it's not really the worst thing those two have ever done.

Beca is about to comment about sending security down when soothing fingers massage the nape of her neck down to her back. It's so good that she moans softly, eyes closing as her muscles relax.

"They'll be fine," Chloe reminds her. "I can feel your stress levels spiking up again,"

Beca softly laughs at that because living together has them fully attuned to each other's emotions that they've developed ways to quickly dissipate any signs of distress. Chloe more than her actually. Given the nature of her job and all the various problems flooding with it, Chloe always finds ways to make sure to lighten her burdens. The care she gives is unmeasurable that sometimes on days where she feels less confident, Beca's temper flares at the thought that the redhead has done this for Tom and he probably was a huge ass to take that for granted. He doesn't deserve it and it angers her that there was a time when Chloe wasn't hers.

"What's wrong?" Chloe asks, her hands stilling as Beca's feelings seeps out towards her.

The worried tone makes Beca mentally berate herself for going through dark memories at a time when she's supposed to be forgetting about the past and celebrating the fact that Chloe is her Queen now.

 _Hers._

She is quick to fix the situation as she buries her head at the crook of Chloe's neck while her arms circle around the redhead's middle, holding her protectively. _Possessively._

"Mine," she mumbles against soft skin.

It doesn't take long until Chloe wraps her arms around her, fingers tangled on her dark brown locks.

"Becs, we talked about this already," Chloe softly berates her, knowing exactly how Beca's mind works when she suddenly gets this sudden territorial urges.

Chloe says that Beca reminds her of a cat when she does things like this. An idea Beca tries to prove wrong because those devilish little creatures are far evil than she is and she does _not_ purr—it was just that one time during a very _hot_ moment.

"Sorry, can't help it," she apologizes moments later even though her hold doesn't change and her lips start to move against Chloe's neck, wanting to leave a love bite just because— _so everyone can see it_.

"We're married now," Chloe reminds her before softly adding, "I am _yours_ ,"

Beca's eyes open at those last words because love bites disappear when the sun sets and by the time the moon shines again Chloe's neck will be flawless. Love bites are not marks. Soulmates _have_ marks. Just like the fresh marks that are visible in Stacie and Aubrey's neck, proudly displayed for everyone to see. Marks that stay forever imprinted on your skin even until you die. Beautiful scars, the only blemish that a vampire will ever have, that's what they are. Reminding you that your soul intertwines with another because of a love so intense, it pulls them together as one.

An eternal promise.

"Almost," she corrects, fingers gently wrapping around Chloe's neck as her thumb brushes above that beating pulse.

"Almost _mine_ ,"

She feels it quicken, the sound filling up her ears like a sweet melody until she hears nothing but that familiar beating. Her throat dries up and that strong urge to claim clouds her head.

Crowned royalty aren't allowed to mark anyone they fancy so easily with all these formal rules and Beca had almost given up on fighting that desire, struggling not to take that bite every single time Chloe sleeps next to her, neck exposed as if taunting Beca to do what she desperately wants to do. The struggle doubles when they make love that she almost punches through the bed's headboard just to stop herself. She _had_ to stop. Had to prove to them that Chloe is worthy of sitting next to her. Worthy to lead in her absence, capable of sharing the same ideals as she does and giving out crucial decisions for the better of their kind.

A mark done before her coronation and their union would've tainted that.

It's already been an emotional battle what with the unjust brand Chloe had been given by Tom as an outcast. It won't be good to add more fuel to the fire.

So Beca had to wait, agonizingly, but now, there's not a single thing that is keeping her from giving in to her urges. Just one deep bite in a moment of pure pleasure is all it takes. It doesn't help that she remembers just how good it tasted, fresh blood dripping down the pleasure vein. She remembers how extremely addicting it was, Chloe's blood. She had went around the world, took a sip from different bodies and yet that particular sweetness almost nine years ago had ruined it for her.

Once you had the best there's just nothing else that could satisfy you.

When she looks up to beautiful blue irises slowly being tainted into red, she knows that she wasn't alone in her struggle.

Chloe whispers her name but it dies in Beca's lips as she kisses her. It starts slow before building up in a passionate rhythm. Her hand comes up at the back of Chloe's neck while Chloe's fingers continue to tangle around her hair. They break for air, desperate for it just as desperate as they are in leaning back in for more.

Beca leans forward, pushing Chloe down the bed, lips trailing down the redhead's jaw down to her neck where she parts her lips to suck on sensitive flesh. It earns her a breathy moan as she tugs on the knot of Chloe's bathrobe. The fabric loosens and is harshly pulled apart underneath Beca's impatient hands. The very same hands that languidly caress on Chloe's sides, delicately molding tender skin before making its way up to cup soft breasts. It only takes a second before her parted lips replace hands and Chloe lightly arches her back, seeking more as she bites her lower lip to control her soft whimpers, half-lidded eyes shutting close.

The sight of it always makes Beca lose every single ounce of control, her hand sliding down and slipping underneath thin fabric, the only semblance of decency Chloe has left. Fingers caress soft folds and Beca groans at the revelation that Chloe wants it as badly as she does.

Her love lets out a shaky moan, hands clawing on Beca's bathrobe. One strong tug and it easily comes undone, one side slipping from Beca's shoulder where Chloe peppers open-mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin, urging her on.

Swiftly, she tugs on Chloe's underwear, ridding her of it in a second. But before she could continue what she's started, she's forced on her back as Chloe hovers above her, kissing her hard before giving her body the same detailed attention. Red wavy curls tickle her skin as Beca feels her venture down lower, her lips leaving hot trails in every inch of her body until she reaches down the one spot that makes Beca utter curses on her lips.

Her underwear slips off of her and her breathing hitches in anticipation. Her stomach takes a dive at the contact, Chloe nestled perfectly between her thighs and Beca is powerless. It only takes one swirl of Chloe's tongue and she's completely acquiescent. Her hands raking through red hair for more before finding Chloe's hand to keep her grounded.

The pleasure intensifies when Chloe's fingers add into her sweet torture and Beca's jaw slackens to let out a satisfied moan. She grasps at the sheets, back arching, muttering curses along with Chloe's name.

She almost tips over the edge but the sound of beating pulse fills her ears and Beca quickly pulls Chloe back up, swallowing her little squeak of confusion as she greedily kisses her, arms wrapping around her love to hold her in place.

They fit perfectly together. It feels so right, contentment pouring all over Beca's heart. Her hips cradle Chloe's as her legs tangle around her thighs. When she pulls her down, pressing her body against her, they both groan in pleasure. Her thighs lock Chloe in place, keeping her there.

Chloe's bathrobe loosely slips down her shoulders now, bunched up around her arms as she looks down at her and it reminds Beca of their younger years.

Laying down green grass and looking up above swaying leaves that slightly obstruct her view of the night sky. Red hair falling down at her replaces the image of the stars, brushing her cheeks while she reaches out to touch, fingers tracing lines and lingering for a few moments with loving affection.

She _loves_ Chloe, so much. Always had and always will. All those memories they shared are all filled with love. They shared dreams and imaginary worlds, always running hand in hand in all of them. Their bond so great that the distance and years in between them had not managed to kill it even if Beca had tried so many times. She couldn't, not because she didn't have a choice but because deep down she constantly yearned for _her_ deep down.

There are so many things she wanted to say but that's the thing between them, words aren't needed. It's that undying connection that she has with Chloe. They both feel it, know it's there and would remain there for the rest of their lives.

She caresses Chloe's face lovingly as her love melts into it, leaning down to kiss her. Beca closes her eyes and Chloe starts to move against her. The delicious friction makes her fingers claw down the smooth expanse of Chloe's back before squeezing her hips, egging her on. Chloe rocks her hips against hers, burying her face on the crook of Beca's neck. Soft moans of pleasure growing as she increases the pace. It's music to Beca's ears.

Their breathing becomes labored and Chloe repeatedly calls her name reverently. Beca digs her nails into Chloe's skin and it's probably looking like the kind of artwork Beca is certainly proud of.

Chloe's arms are starting to give way with every thrust, ramming into her in an increasing pace, as she lowers herself further down, almost collapsing on top of her. She welcomes her with open arms, wanting to feel every inch of her that when she does, Beca almost cries in pleasure.

Chloe's heart beats against hers and Beca feels their rhythm's matching in one single beating.

Always had, always will.

Her fangs slide down.

Their hips rock harder and Beca clings to her love, grasping Chloe's hair, firmly pressing her into her.

She feels something sharp near her neck and knows… _Almost._

One hard thrust and Beca falls completely, huge waves of pleasure crashing down and just when she thinks she's gone, her instincts naturally take over.

Fangs sink into skin deeply without warning. Warm liquid breaks out and slides down Beca's tongue. The addicting taste sends euphoria all over her that she almost doesn't notice the sharp pain in her own neck. But it doesn't end there as a pleasure extremely intense than ever before takes over. Chloe's scream is muffled against Beca's neck and she's sure she'd be screaming herself if her fangs weren't buried deep into soft flesh. Her body convulses uncontrollably and she feels Chloe's nails harshly clawing onto her skin that she's sure it drew blood, her body trembling on top of Beca with the satisfying sensation. Beca isn't fully aware but she's sure that her grip is strong and she knows there will be bruises, the only ones that she will ever give Chloe because Beca is sure to wake up and feel guilty about creating them.

She almost blacks out. Maybe she did for a moment, she's not sure, but when she does come to, rolling down from her high, Chloe's blood is still flowing down her throat, spilling out of her lips and running down Beca's chin, her hand at the back of her love's neck, hungrily drinking her. She doesn't want to stop, the pleasure still ringing all over her body that breathing becomes hard and she knows Chloe feels the same way, Beca's blood probably spilling down the wrinkled sheets.

In between the addicting taste and the already unbearable pleasure, what she didn't expect is the searing pain growing on her chest that it snaps her eyes open, fangs sliding out of Chloe's skin.

Chloe's pained cries makes Beca realize that she's not the only one, her beloved calling out to her as she holds her tighter.

"Chloe… I'm here," she struggles to say, gritting her teeth at the burn and burying her face in Chloe's hair, face contorted into pain.

It was like hot iron being pressed against her chest and carving something on her flesh.

Or her soul.

The pain continues as she whispers Chloe's name.

Then everything goes dark and Beca doesn't remember anything after that.

* * *

When she comes to, she panics upon waking up to blood stain sheets, still completely naked and in an unfamiliar room, her hands grasping blindly on to the first thing it touches but when she feels Beca's warmth behind her, Chloe breathes out a sigh of relief.

She moves, turning around only to feel how sore and heavy her body is. Her neck aches painfully, the punctured wound unnaturally having not healed yet but she doesn't regret a thing.

When it comes to Beca there are no regrets.

She curls up to her wife, seeking the comfort and security she always feels next to her. That's when she finds the wounds she herself had inflicted on her. Her bite hasn't healed at all either and Chloe grimaces at how bad it looks. There's dry blood all around Beca's skin, a bruise forming around the wound and Chloe is certain her own neck looks exactly the same.

A couple of minutes passed and Chloe feels the urge to head to the bathroom. She carefully slides out of bed and slipping on her discarded bathrobe, quietly moving, not wanting to wake Beca up but not before pressing a soft kiss on her wife's temple.

However, once her feet are planted on the ground and she takes the first few steps, a sharp pain pierces right at the center of her chest. If she hadn't known better, she'd think that someone threw a knife straight at her heart. It almost knocks her out as she stumbles backwards but instead of falling on to the side of the bed, she grasps on to waiting hands that quickly pull her close.

As soon as the contact happened, the pain swiftly fades like it hadn't been there and Chloe scrambles back into bed, straddling Beca as she hugs her tightly for fear of having that horrible pain course through her again. A pleasant feeling replaces it instead and Chloe closes her eyes as she revels in, softly sighing in contentment and bliss.

"I won't do that again," she mumbles after a while like a regretful child being scolded, still hugging Beca while she runs a hand down Chloe's back soothingly.

"They say it's going to get better after a week," Beca sleepily replies, eyes closed as she rests her head against Chloe's shoulder.

"I almost forgot about that part. Remember how I used to sneak in your room to sleep next to you for three nights after that _light_ bonding ritual we did years ago? This is way worse," Chloe says, smiling at the memory while Beca nods followed by a sleepy yawn that Chloe finds cute.

There's a pause before Beca looks at her, dark blues slowly blinking—which Chloe finds cute because she looked like a kitten—before frowning at the wound on her neck and then looking into her with a sigh.

"C'mon, let's go pee,"

Guess, the communication thing just got even clearer. Like a radio finally finding good signal after all the scratchy frequency sounds.

Sighing in relief, Chloe smiles, "I really need to go," she says, hurriedly fumbling around twisted sheets to grab Beca's bathrobe—she finds it near the edge of the bed—before pulling Beca along with her.

She holds Beca's hand even as she sits in the toilet like it's the most natural thing in the world. They don't let go even as they brush their teeth and definitely not when Beca pulls her inside the shower stall, kissing all that is left from the bruises and stinging scratches from last night. When they walk out the bathroom, freshly showered, hair already dry—they took turns blow drying each other's hair—finally fully clothed, necks patched up with Chloe's unicorn designed band-aids. And maybe she likes it a little too much with how Beca walks around the castle sporting it, more into the meaning it holds rather than the cute rainbow unicorn. Chloe sticks to her side, of course. Hands intertwined and matching wedding rings sparkling proudly for everyone to see.

There's a scheduled semi-formal brunch for everyone. Some looking like a mess after yesterday's hangover and some enjoying the gossip about some scandalous drama last night. Long tables are set up and as usual both she and Beca are seated up front, easily surveying the crowd from where they are positioned.

Jesse is in the middle of the gossip because usually he starts the rumors. His twin brothers, on the other hand, are looking like they just jumped straight out of bed and definitely still hungover as they wore sunglasses and drunk their coffee quietly. Doesn't stop the smirks on their face though as they look over the other tables. Stella is still talking with her special blonde friend, wearing soft smiles and hands brushing every now and then. Stacie and Aubrey almost enters the hall at the same time as they did, looking like they had a _great_ time like they did earlier in the day. Arthur, Aubrey's brother shakes his head fondly at his sister before pulling Stacie to his side to whisper something funny in her ear and it seems clear that those two are now best friends.

Emily surprisingly joins the Vanderbilt table as Scott quickly grabs her a drink and plate of food—which earns another secret hand signal of approval from Stacie. In a matter of minutes, Stella is dragged to the table, coerced by her own sister to introduce her _special friend._ Jesse follows, bringing the gossip with him—because everyone needs to get a sip of the _tea_ —which then pulls in the twins, now finally interested in socializing.

And it's funny seeing Aubrey try not to yell at the kids—Nick and Nate—for playing with food and trying to start a food fight while Stacie jokingly tells her that this is why she fled to Italy. Even more surprisingly, the twins stop and pout proving that Aubrey is scary good at disciplining people without using force.

But it isn't what really moves Chloe, it's the fact that the young Du Ponts and Vanderbilts are sharing one table, chatting away as if their families hadn't been rivals for ages. There's still bickering and eye rolling but there's also laughter and smiles. And that's already a win on her book.

That's family.

She smiles at the sight of them and squeezes Beca's hand. Her wife squeezes back and when Chloe looks at her, she knows that Beca is thinking the same way.

"It's happening, those dreams we always had. The promises you made," she says, tearing up a bit as she smiles widely. "I told you, you could do it, Midnight," she adds proudly, holding Beca's face tenderly.

"Not without you, Sunshine. Never without you," Beca says, leaning in to her touch, her hand resting on top of hers before planting a gentle kiss on her palm.

"Gekos Becs Becs wub Chlo Chlo?"

"Becs Becs munchies wub Chlo Chlo, stars van cosmos," Beca replies adoringly and Chloe feels it strongly, Beca's emotions flooding straight through her heart that it overwhelms her like symphonies playing grandly.

Chloe doesn't spare another second more as she kisses Beca, looking into her eyes as she softly replies, "Stars van cosmos,"

She glances back down at the table shared by Du Ponts and Vanderbilts before looking back at Beca, a thought in her mind.

A thought easily read by her love.

"Let's go greet the guests then," Beca sighs, giving in, as they both stand up, Chloe tugging Beca's hand excitedly as they make their way around the tables—ultimately figuring that Beca letting herself be hugged by her parents is endearing—until they finally stop by the one table they've been meaning to sit at.

The whole table gets noisier with their arrival, Jesse greets them with what the juicy drama last night was all about, complete with photos, while the twins asks them to pick a side on some ongoing debate—zombie apocalypse or alien invasion. Stacie wiggles her eyebrows at their unicorn band-aids before putting her money down on alien invasion because, ' _Spaceships and laser guns! Plus, if they insist on war, we have Beca so, we win.'_ Aubrey is already betting her money on the zombie apocalypse because _'It'll be easy. They're dumb. Also, isn't that already happening? Cannibalism, duh?'_ while Arthur is in lawyer mode, already in a heated discussion about Star Wars with the twins. Bread is thrown at somebody—Nate—and it's all a blur of laughter from then on.

It's beautiful, it's chaotic and it's perfect.

It's not so hard to imagine what tomorrow brings now.

Chloe already has a good feeling that this incoming semester is going to be a really good one, especially now that she's facing the future with her soulmate.

Sinking into Beca's loving arms amidst the messy and unorganized discussion around them, Chloe is sure that this right here is only the start of so many happy moments of their life.

 _Always and until forever_

* * *

 **11 years later**

 **Neuilly-sur-Seine, France**

Beca looks far away, deep in thought as she sits on the chair of her personal home office, fingers slowly drumming against the expensive wood of her desk. There are papers neatly stacked yet she hasn't as much as glanced at them at all. It'll be midnight in a couple of hours now and her anxiety is only getting worse.

Sighing, she leans her head back on the chair's head rest and closes her eyes. She's also worried and nervous. If anyone knew her, she wasn't exactly the type to overthink things and obsess over them. She's always been precise and calm. Tonight's not that night, apparently.

She needs to anchor herself into something that could help her relax. Just when she decides on what, a knock sounds on the door of her office and with one word, one of her assistants enter to bring the news she's been getting anxious about for weeks now.

Twirling her wedding ring around her ring finger, a habit she's acquired for the past eleven years whenever she gets a little jittery, worried or moody, Beca finally nods and stands up to prepare herself.

Looking at the mirror as her assistants gather around her and style her in beautiful clothes, her thoughts are still a mess. Her modern baroque inspired luxuriously designed mini-length black dress, no matter how simple she thinks it is, screams royalty that she could walk in the room where nobody recognizes her and still be welcomed with a bow.

She's being strapped into matching black designer heels when one of her assistants open a jewelry box for her to approve. Glancing at it, Beca nods in approval as she brushes her fingers on the rose brooch, filled with precious red diamonds, before being pinned on to her long sleeved lace blouse.

Her hair, now longer, is back to its natural brown shade after having it dyed in a lighter color months ago and is styled in loose wavy curls at the ends.

When she is asked if she'd wear her crown she shook her head no. This day may be special but it's an intimate affair as well and wearing the crown isn't necessary in front of _family_.

Eleven years and she's still Queen.

It wasn't planned at all. She'd happily step down if it wasn't for the unanimous vote that had her still sitting on Corvinn's throne. With the formal title attached to her name, and also with Beca's insistence, the Du Pont house has appointed a new head of the house so she can solely focus on political affairs.

Stella has been a very good head of the Du Pont high seat for years now and Beca is proud of her for that. Emily had controversially declined the title and even though she is the rightful heir, Beca declares that Stella is to be head—the Swanson boys would not want the position either. Besides, Emily had her reasons and Beca knows of them. It's half of the reason Beca considers this day special.

Taking one deep breath, she finally steps out her room and heads downstairs where melodious laughter echoes. She slowly makes her way down to one of the spacious places of the house, the kitchen which is connected to the very grand dining area.

Careful not to clack her heels loudly and disrupt the adorableness happening inside the room, she quietly leans on the entryway, looking at what she considers the only joy of her life, her most precious treasures.

Her lovely wife, still immensely beautiful as ever, Chloe, singing with their sweet little princess, Alessandra Robbyn Du Pont. The little seven year old—fluent in both French and Italian—has inherited the soft brown Du Pont locks and, much to Beca's delight, Chloe's gorgeous baby blue eyes. She's also inherited Chloe's pleading puppy pout whenever she cutely asks for something and Beca always finds it hard to resist that her wife says she's a slave to their baby girl—she's absolutely right.

Her two loves are now twirling around happily in their matching red dresses as their pet cat, the evil warlord and Beca's darling nemesis for eleven years, lounges on one of the counters looking at them in a bored manner. Chloe, also in a lacy mini-dress compliments Beca's outfit with the black intricate designs on it while their daughter giddily sways in her knee-length sleeveless princess dress, rose flowers adorning the upper half of her lovely little dress. Beca almost gushes at the rose flower crown she is wearing.

Unable to stay afar any longer, she crosses the distance between them in time to catch Chloe in her arms.

"Was wondering when you'd stop staring in a corner and join us," Chloe tells her as they sway lightly, Chloe's arms wrapping around her neck. Her smile is as dazzling as ever and Beca couldn't stop herself from leaning in to kiss her.

Eleven years and her heart still flutters happily every single time she holds Chloe lovingly in her arms. Although, there's a little something different about her today and she can't pin point what but before she could say it out loud, Chloe is motioning over their little audience and Beca's attention shifts to their grinning little girl looking up at them, arms already waiting wide open for her.

"And how's my lovely flower angel?" she asks tenderly, kneeling down to receive her daughter's hug. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't join you earlier for breakfast," she sincerely apologizes when her daughter looks back at her.

Thankfully, her daughter is as sweet as her mommy and loves hugs just as much as she loves receiving them. Even Stacie can't believe that something that angelic could literally come out from Beca, opposite of what all her teasing cousins thought her daughter would be—a wild, lazy, broody little monster. She never really got over their comments thanking Chloe for marrying her and dominating their daughter's genetics with her sweet personality.

"Mommy made me my favorite blueberry pancakes!" Alessandra excitedly reports, along with stories of her imaginary little world. And to Beca's dismay, she has to admit there's a little truth to what her cousins think about their daughter because apart from the hair color and other physical attributes she got from Beca, she's definitely a mini version of her wife.

But to her slight relief, there is actually the part of their daughter's personality which she had inherited from Beca. Little Alessandra loves music, adventure, conquering mystical lands with her loyal teddy bear, Mister Buggie Browns, as she runs around the house with her ukulele and oversized captain's hat. It's come to a point where Beca is contemplating on installing a tracking device on her because she keeps escaping her security team—Gabin has reportedly aged fifty years because of her mischief—and eventually making Chloe panic.

" _Becs! I don't care how important this meeting is! I've just been gone for a couple hours and now Aly, our baby otter, is missing! This is a red level emergency! Call everyone! Now!"_

" _What?! I-I left her with Gabin—Oh look! Nothing to worry about. There's our baby girl and she's climbing—Is that our daughter climbing a fucking tree?! No. No. NO."_

Anyways, that always ends with an endearing tearful apology from the little Du Pont and her cute very Chloe-like excuses such as, chasing butterflies, hiding treasures from the _bad pirates_ around their wide expanse of land, saving the _world_ and her desire to make a treehouse so she can watch over the baby birds to keep them from falling.

"I also helped mommy wrap Stefan's gift!" Alessandra bounces giddily in Beca's arms and the mention of the name suddenly brings back the anxiety persistently pestering her at the back of her mind.

"I'll give him the gift and then I'm going to welcome him home! We're going to be best, best, best friends!"

Her daughter is so happy and it's the purest thing in the world that Beca hugs her again because there's that familiar sting in her eyes and she blinks them away.

"Also, I told mommy that I want to be an astronaut because astronauts fly up the sun and the moon! Like angels!"

Beca looks up at her wife who smiles proudly at their baby girl's big dreams. Releasing her daughter from the hug, Beca straightens her daughter's dress and looks at her.

"You can be whoever you want to be, with whoever you choose to be—as long as they also love you just as much as I and your mommy does," she immediately adds which earns a fond shake of the head and a sigh from Chloe.

"And go wherever your heart desires. Whatever it is you decide just know, we are right here behind you. Always and forever. We love you so, so, so much, my little flower angel," she says, pressing a gentle kiss on top of her daughter's head before re-adjusting the pretty little flower crown on her head.

"I love you Mama," is the sweet reply she gets before their daughter faces her wife and tells her the same thing too.

In the midst of sweet 'I love you's', someone suddenly clears their throat, interrupting their little moment.

When Beca looks up to find Gabin standing near the doorway and pointing at his watch, she finally stands up knowing that it's time. Alessandra stands in between them as she and Chloe each hold her hands before walking out to greet the rest of their family.

It's Emily's birthday today and it's decided that they all come together to celebrate it at Beca and Chloe's residence.

Not much has change for everyone in eleven years in terms of being the wild, rambunctious group of brats that they are whenever they get together.

What's change however is that they now all are busy with their passions and interests. Of course, Beca is still Queen, keeping the peace and order in their world. Her achievements are now surpassing her father's and she just turned thirty-one. However, despite wanting to lead the military missions across the globe, her wife is hell bent on keeping her feet planted in France. Chloe knows she is the best in that field and there are always going to be times when she cannot change her decision to stay but Beca generally lets Franco Vanderbilt or Yuuka Mori to lead said operations. She now also owns Club Bellissimo, the hottest club in France, when it was sold to her.

Chloe on the other hand, despite being busy with her philanthropic organizations and projects, is busy managing her own theater company where she usually brings their daughter to. Alessandra's love for music has her eagerly coming to work with her mommy. Although, Gabin and Beca's weekly fight trainings is something that competes with that musical interest. There isn't much of a problem though since Chloe competes with Gabin in the shooting range every now and then—they have reached hilarious bets all these years that range from embarrassing to outrageous.

The twins, now both married and with children as mischievous as they are, have started a band called 'The Night Owls' and are constantly _night_ touring—and hooting—around the world. Their biggest hit is actually arranged by Beca herself and now they are planning to beg for her to do their next one as well— _'What are cousins for, Beca?' 'Yeah, we'll pay you with love! And Chloe already said yes.'_

Jesse has an events and catering company. Every talked about party is hosted by him. Also, he is now freshly married to his soulmate, Benjamin Abbot. Well, who knew Beca was staring at her cousin's elusive soulmate all these years?

Stella, is as mentioned, the appointed head of the noble Du Pont house while balancing her work as a top neuro-surgeon in one of the best hospitals in France—she's also one of the hospital's shareholders but it's a secret. She's still single after a couple of failed relationships but it seems that a feisty and beautiful—non-vampire—doctor Griffin from Cardio might change that.

Stacie owns an art gallery, Aphrodite, where her precious artwork is hung up. Her best art work however is a collaborative project with her wife Aubrey and it's in the form of two beautiful children. Eight year old Violette, whom Alessandra considers as her sister and one year old Alfonso. Violette is growing to be more like Stacie, complete with unmeasurable confidence and sassy sarcasm, while Alfonso is more Aubrey with intelligence that is odd for a one year old and that shiny blonde hair.

Stacie and Aubrey are first to arrive as their hotel is only fifteen minutes away from the house. Alessandra immediately hugs Violette while Chloe gushes at Alfonso in Stacie's arms. Somehow, Chloe and Stacie's friendship has paved way for an unlikely _companionship_ between Beca and Aubrey. They call it companionship since neither of them would stubbornly admit to being close friends and then point out that all they do is try to aim at each other's mistakes—they hang out every first Sunday of the month after council meetings for the past five years at any high end bar where they plan on taking down enemies over wine.

One by one, Beca's cousins arrive with their significant others and children in tow. The noise is starting to grow at the back of the house where the garden party is taking place and it's such a warm atmosphere to be in. There are also extended relatives and friends in attendance, bringing gifts and chatting happily.

Finally, a familiar set of cars arrive and Beca inhales deeply as they step out the front porch. She feels Chloe's hand on her arm, soothing her nerves. She holds a very excited Alessandra close to her, the seven year old already holding her gift.

She watches silently as the vehicles come to a stop. Gabin steps out of one of them, buttoning up his suit formally before bowing at them in respect. Beca nods at him as he moves to open the passenger door of the Du Pont limousine, their family insignia proudly etched on it and all. She holds Chloe's hand tightly as soon as Mia Black steps out the car, followed by a nervous looking eleven year old boy whose face makes Beca's heart clench.

"Mama, can I give my gift to Stefan now?" Alessandra says bouncing in impatience.

Looking down at her daughter, Beca brushes her soft cheeks with her thumb, "Later, angel. Mama will talk to him first, stay here with your mommy," she answers shortly, eyes locking with Chloe's, an understanding wordlessly passing between them.

Softly untangling herself from her daughter's hold and handing her over to Chloe, Beca proceeds to walk down the steps. Every soldier lining up down the steps standing rigid before bowing down simultaneously in respect.

When she reaches Gabin, she finally gets a closer look at her nephew for the first time in eleven years. It's been that long since Beca had fought for half-ling rights and have celebrated the smallest of wins in such a tedious fight.

Mia greets her humbly, bowing down in respect. Stefan does the same, something which his mother most probably taught him to do. When he stands back straight up once more, he places his hands behind his back and holds his head high as he tries not to stare at her.

"Stefan wants to be a soldier when he grows up," Mia tells her after a short exchange of pleasantries and it explains why he is copying Gabin's stance. It's admittedly charming. "Just like his father," Mia adds.

At the mention of his name and his dream, Stefan finally speaks, "I'm so pleased to meet you, Your Highness," he says in French. It's not perfect but it's impressive. His stormy blues glance at her before quickly averting them again when they lock with her own.

"Well then, follow me," she says, lightly cocking her head to the side before turning around to walk towards the side of the mansion and into the path walk lined with trees.

Stefan looks at his mother who urges him to go.

Behind her, she hears light hurried footsteps and hears the beating of his heart increase with each step. Just before they reach the clearing ahead, she lifts up her hand to motion her security to hold back, it's a request for privacy and is highly honored especially when she is in her own home.

She is greeted by a serene view of the lake as she stops by a weeping willow tree where she had spent countless nights lounging under its leaves with Chloe and eventually with their little girl. Interestingly, she used to play with her late brother Stefan in this very place. He used to row a boat to the middle of the lake with Beca who would giggle at his pirate voice. It's truly a special spot and now she's brought his son, her nephew, with her.

"Why do you want to be a soldier?" she asks him, there's a bit of gentleness in her tone but she doubts he could tell. She's always been known to have such a cold first impression to everyone she meets.

The young boy visibly gulps hard and when she turns to him, she finds earnest dark blue eyes looking at her, "I want to protect you,"

The answer shakes her to the core. It's clear just how he is the spitting image of her brother. She sees him in her nephew. He's alive in those curious eyes that it takes her a while to reply to such sincere, bold words.

"Do you know what is required of soldiers?" she asks him and answers without waiting for his reply, "In the face of danger, they are to die for their Queen, Stefan," her voice now softening as she speaks slowly.

"I don't want you to die for me. Your father is very close to my heart. You are my nephew and it's _my_ job to protect you. I swore to him that I would keep you safe,"

"I know, Your Highness" comes the solemn reply, dark blue eyes casting down the ground for a few moments before looking back up at her again with a new found determination.

"But I want to fight by your side just like my father," he says firmly and it breaks her heart because he talks just like him, persistent and determined. Her brother never changes his mind when he decides. His son clearly got that thinking as well.

"When I grow up I want to serve the crown and protect the innocent, protect you. You're…" he trails off, averting his eyes shyly.

"You're my hero. Mom tells me stories about you, everything you've done, how much dad loved you… and that you kept me far from home because you love me. I've… always wanted to m-meet you," he says, tripping with his words before hurriedly adding a nervous 'Your Highness,' which eventually makes Beca's lips unable to resist the urge to curve upwards.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," she softly says. "I've always wanted to meet you too," she finally says as he quickly looks back at her again. It reminded her of how she used to look at her brother in adoration, how his approval meant so much to her and how eagerly she'd follow him around all the time.

"Do you want to live here? With your mother, here, in France?" she asks and his face lights up, eyes wide and hopeful. He nods eagerly and it brings a smile to her face.

"Alright then," she starts as he looks like he could explode any moment but she holds up a finger to tell him that there's something else, "For as long as you stop calling me, Your Highness," she tells him as he nods eagerly again.

"Okay, your—uhm, uhh,"

"Beca, just call me Beca… or Becs. Your father gave me that nickname,"

"Okay… Becs,"

She reaches out to softly touch his head, "You are a Du Pont, Stefan. We are family and family protects each other. But most importantly in family, there's love, trust and loyalty. It runs in your blood, your father's and mine. Always—"

"And until the end?" he completes for her.

A gentle breeze passes and somehow, it's like her brother is there, reminding her that he will always be right there with her, for her and for his son just as he has promised.

"Yes, until the end," she lightly nods before turning to head back to the mansion.

She takes a couple of steps before pausing, looking back at Stefan. She raises her arm, palm open as she offers it to him.

 _Just as her brother always did._

"You're supposed to walk beside me now, soldier," she says fondly before he runs to her without any hesitation, taking her hand and clutching it tightly with both his own. The contact sends a familiar feeling settling deep in her heart.

They walk back hand in hand as she tells him of happy memories of his father, smiling as he laughs at funny stories of his father sleeping like a sloth on one of the big branches, how he used to carry her around his back while running around in circles and how he looked just as nervous as he was earlier when Beca clumsily fell trying to chase him one time, causing her knee to bleed.

When they return, she finds Chloe talking to Mia, Alessandra by her side. When her daughter spots her, she tugs Chloe's hand excitedly, whispering her permission to go to Stefan.

Her wife looks at her.

Glancing down at Stefan she finds him anxiously looking around, not being accustomed to the presence of vampires or being in the middle of such great attention by everyone in the room as he keeps himself practically glued to her side, half his body hiding behind her, hands gripping her own tightly.

"Stefan," she calls his attention and he is quick to look up at her, ready to do anything she tells him.

"Everyone in this house is your family. You are welcomed to all of their homes," she says just as the twins come running at the back to hold up a huge banner saying, 'Welcome home, Stefany!' which makes Beca frown when Nick slowly and awkwardly covers the letter 'Y', a clear typographical error. It earns them each a slap at the back of the head from Stacie— _'You had one job. One!'—_ while baby Alfonso follows his mother by grabbing at Nate's hair.

They clearly never do anything right even at their age.

Sighing, Beca returns her attention back at her nephew, who now seems slightly less nervous, curiosity getting the best of him as he finds friendly faces around the room and an encouraging smile from his mother.

She pulls him lightly towards Chloe and Alessandra. "This is Chloe, she's my wife," she introduces as Stefan quickly gets into a soldier stance.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Your Highness. My name is Stefan Du Pont," he says as Chloe looks at Beca in amusement.

In a moment, her wife smiles after Beca mentally explains, "Ah, so this our handsome noble soldier! It's very nice to meet you too, Stefan. Call me Chloe," she says warmly before planting a soft kiss on Stefan's cheek. Beca watches him blush endearingly, jaw dropping in pure admiration—heart eyes—and she internally sighs.

Well, there goes loyalty.

Another willing member swearing fealty to team Chlo Chlo.

But it's too early to say that since their little girl is winning hearts more than her mommy nowadays. Before Beca could even introduce her to him, she's already flinging herself towards him for a hug.

"Aly, let him breathe," she softly says and her daughter lets him go, taking her gift from Gabin and handing it over to Stefan.

"Hello, Stefan! I'm your new best friend! My name is Alessandra Robbyn Du Pont," she proudly says with a wide smile while Stefan takes the gift, eyes lighting up as he softly thanks her.

"Mama, will Stefan stay with us? Please, let him stay here! I can share my room with him!" she says with a pleading pout and she looks at Chloe again because Beca keeps telling her that it's Chloe's fault that their daughter has learned the infamous puppy pout which she can never refuse.

Looking back down at her daughter, she prepares to explain because her daughter has this tendency to get too attached to the people she loves. They both had to console a crying Alessandra for several nights when Violette left for Italy the first time. The concept of goodbyes are a very sensitive topic to the young Du Pont princess. She and her uncle Jesse share that same trait.

"Stefan is going to stay with us for a week, angel, but after that he is going to his new home. It's just a couple of minutes away from here so you can visit him all the time, okay?" Beca carefully says but she does wonder if her words settled down in her daughter's mind because after she mentioned a week Alessandra is already bouncing again happily.

"Okay!" her daughter excitedly says before holding Stefan's hand and tugging him towards the rest of the Du Pont children who are now crowding around him.

"Only child, Your Highness?" Mia asks, eyes following Alessandra as she hands a cookie to Stefan.

"Obviously," she says as Mia nods. "We're… actually trying again. Chloe has taken time off from theatre," Beca adds after a slight hesitation but if she wants to have a good relationship with her nephew, considering his mother as family would help make that easier.

"Oh, earlier I couldn't help but notice the beautiful glow your wife has. I honestly thought your Queen was pregnant, Your Highness" Mia smiles and her words suddenly make Beca pause, her gaze tearing from the sweet image of Stefan and Alessandra holding hands to her wife who is now talking with Aubrey.

"Chloe is… always glowing," Beca says as she grabs one of the champagne glasses from one of the passing servers, taking a sip from it immediately before excusing herself.

She heads upstairs to the master's bedroom and waits a couple of seconds until Chloe appears at the door.

"What's wrong?" her wife quickly asks, closing the door behind her to face Beca worriedly, obviously recognizing the mental distress call.

"Chlo, is there's something…" she trails off, running a hand through her hair before locking her eyes with baby blues.

It only takes a moment of unspoken words wrapped in comforting silence until Chloe gently takes her hand and slowly places it against her stomach.

Beca's eyes blur as she blinks multiple times, her face going through a range of emotions before she sputters a shaky whisper of awe, "Really?"

Chloe nods, a smile breaking her lips as her eyes start to brim with tears and it makes Beca gasp because she couldn't believe it even if she could feel the precious life growing inside her wife.

"Why didn't you tell me? I know something was different, I just—I wasn't sure and—oh god, we're going to have a baby! Again!" Beca says with huge smile on her lips, hands cupping Chloe's face as she wipes all those happy tears.

"I just found out yesterday evening and you've been busy with everything—but I was planning to tell you! Either tomorrow night or at least after the party," Chloe hurriedly explains only to be cut off with Beca's lips pressed against hers.

"I love you," she ardently mumbles against Chloe's lips. "You make me so happy,"

Her hand touches Chloe's stomach again as she leans her head against Chloe's, unable to control the big smiles on both their faces.

"I love you too," Chloe whispers back, placing a hand on top of her own before Beca captures her lips once more, whispering back sweet words of love and adoration.

"Becs," Chloe breathes out when Beca's lips trail down to her neck, hands tightly holding her wife close.

"We have a party," Chloe reminds her yet from the weak tone and the soft sighs, Beca just hums distractedly, focused on showering her wife with love. "Downstairs and," Chloe continues but pauses at the small nip as Beca smirks.

Chloe's lips finds hers again, resolve gone, as Beca easily maneuvers her to their bed, lowering her gently and pinning her down the soft mattress.

Wrapped in a series of heated kisses and passionate caresses, they don't notice the footsteps echoing across the hall until the door opens wide, immediately breaking their intimate moment.

"Seriously, _Your Highnesses_?! This again?!" Aubrey hisses at both of them, bringing up a set of embarrassing memories, while Stacie quickly covers their son's eyes before muttering an, _'I told you'_ at Aubrey and an, _'Have you no shame? There's a child here and at a family party?'_ followed by a, _'Kinky. Nice.'_ to the both of them. She shuts up however, when Aubrey eyes her with a warning look.

"With all due respect, _our beloved Queens_ , we are bringing out the cake now so you two better stop all this horny frolicking and get your asses downstairs. Now," Stacie strictly demands before walking off with hers and Aubrey's son.

A pouting Chloe gets reluctantly dragged away by an impatient Aubrey—because she knows, _based on experience_ , that they'll just get back tothe _dirty_ frolicking once she leaves— fixing her lipstick and straightening her dress while Beca miserably follows behind, doing the same and stopping in front of the mirrors to make sure she looks presentable.

The promising look she exchanges with Chloe is telling that their private celebration and baby announcement will have to wait till this party is over.

For now, there are other important matters to settle like the moment when a blindfolded Emily is led to the middle of the garden, after blowing the candles of her birthday cake, for some surprise only to find her longtime boyfriend Scott standing in front of her.

He slowly gets down on one knee and taking out what seems to be Emily's favorite candy, the same one they secretly shared when they were teenagers, a time when their families would have never allowed something like this to happen.

And now it's a little absurd to think that there had been such a time. Beca glances around the room, finding Aubrey giving Stacie a tender kiss on the cheek, Arthur standing in between Stella and Jesse, looking at his kneeling cousin with a cheeky smile on his face. On the table of birthday gifts, a huge box carefully wrapped in gold is sent with care straight from New York by Claire Vanderbilt with a letter of apology for her absence and a promise to make it up to Emily when she returns to Europe. Her fashion line is unfortunately being launched at the same time for New York fashion week. After her brother's death who knew one Emily Du Pont would warm her icy heart?

Emily, in her part, looked confused with what is happening as she unwraps the candy only to find a beautiful diamond ring instead. There are words written in a question on the wrapper which make her burst into tears of joy as she nods, her answer cemented as she blurts out a very strong 'Yes'.

A minute later, the twins come running again at the back holding party poppers and blasting them up in the air like crazed maniacs. They also tried to light fireworks and ended up burning the outdoor table cloth, causing momentary panic until the situation has been taken care of.

Chloe wraps her arms around Beca, settling comfortably by her side with a grin on her face as they watch what is now one of the most special moments in their family unfolding in front of their eyes. Like instinct, Beca circles her arms around her wife, planting a lingering kiss on the side of her head.

It's been eleven years since Beca's heart has found all the missing broken pieces. All of which Chloe has lovingly put together and stuck to her own beating heart.

She still has nightmares of dark traumatic memories but they only come occasionally now and if they do, they don't leave that cold horrible feeling when she wakes anymore. Because now, she wakes up with Chloe's protective embrace and her daughter's smiling face to keep her sane, knowing that she's stronger than the pain, stronger than all that darkness, knowing that she is capable of love and she deserves it.

There's always going to be a tomorrow and even though it had been a struggle, all she thinks is that if she had given up halfway she'd never wake up today holding her love in her arms and watching all the people she loves gathering around happily around her.

Beca finally settles her gaze over to her daughter who is now glued to Stefan's side. Both children sitting on the steps and eating lollipop. Her nephew gets called by one of his cousins for a game but once he starts to stand up he stops, turns to Alessandra and takes her hand, bringing her with him because they are best friends now and best friends are _forever_.

Holding her wife's hand, she looks at Chloe, the redhead having felt her gaze on her, turns to look at her as well. A curious look passes Chloe's face before her lips slowly curve up and Beca smiles.

 _Forever is beautiful._

 **End.**

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **August 26, 2018**

 **Dear Readers,**

 **It's been exactly a year since I've written this story. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. It's not perfect, I know. But I hope it brought you smiles and touched your beautiful hearts because to me that's all that matters (That, coffee and pizza). It's really been a crazy journey, both this story and my personal life. I've been through a lot the past year and writing Midnight Sunshine has become such a big part of my life. Which is why this story is very close to my heart. I've written it with so much love and care (Just like all my other fics but this one really hits so many marks). I just want to say a BIG THANK YOU to all of you. Especially those who have been commenting since the very beginning and showing their support with all those lovely comments (Parziwolf, Kasia143, Yuzu-Chi01, Comiiksde, Sandrickisreal, etc, I can't name all of you! OMG I'm a failure!). Those praises and comments are words that I will keep dear to my heart. It was those very words that kept me writing, you guys don't know just how special it is for authors when they hear feedback like that (but now you do!). It's what fuels stories like this. And yes I have read ALL of your comments, guys.**

 **I don't know if I'm ready to publish this story to the world. I mean, I made it for Bechloe and because I love writing stories. I don't know if I can ever reach that status of being an author or if I'm good enough to actually make a fuckin' BOOK. Besides, I know nothing about it! But if like say, it happens to be published and turned into a movie what do you think the chances of Anna and Brittany starring in it are? Zero to none percent? Oh well, we can all dream. But if they don't then would Natasha and Elise be available? Or Alycia and Eliza? Cate Blanchett? no?**

I'd also like to thank my ex-bestfriend for being the inspiration for this story. We may not have had been able to save or keep our friendship like Beca and Chloe even when we _sort of_ tried, but those four years are years filled with happy memories I will forever cherish. I do forgive you (just like I told you). I'm also sorry that we ended up drifting apart. And thank you for being that annoying idiot (beautiful, well-loved, idiot) and aggressively befriending an extremely socially awkward red panda at a time when I thought little me will forever be a quiet loner sitting at the back of class who gets extremely nervous when the damn teacher tells us to pair up with whomever you want because I didn't have anyone for years. You made me find the confidence that I really needed and for that, I thank you.

 **Thank you to the music, to Drake whose song Passionfruit has been playing since I've written chapter one. That song got me writing, like for real, that song is addicting!**

 **Thank you to the countless of pizzas that had been harmed in the making of this fanfic.**

 **Thank you to the red pandas and baby otters (that have never been harmed in the making of this fic).**

 **And thank you to those who will be following and subscribing to my next story! (I love shameless self-promotions. Hahahahaha. Just taking advantage of the opportunity. Love me, please.)**

 **If you want to talk to me about anything Midnight Sunshine (or just whatever) related, questions and confusions, my inbox is open. If I don't reply for some reason my Twitter is _redhappypanda_ (excuse the rainbow vomit all over it) and my Tumblr (of course I have Tumblr!) _jia-roo_**

 **Stay in love, darlings,**

 **Redchocopanda**


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